•HBHiMMHi 


MEMOIR 


OF 


GOVERNOR  ANDREW, 

personal  Jfomtmscenct*. 

BY 

PELEG  W.   CHANDLER. 


TO   WHICH  ARE  ADDED 


Two  HITHERTO  UNPUBLISHED  LITERARY  DISCOURSES, 
AND  THE  VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS. 


BOSTON: 
ROBERTS     BROTHERS. 

1880. 


t  bl 

i  u 


Copyright,  1880, 
BY  ROBERTS  BROTHERS. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS: 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


PUBLISHERS'    NOTICE. 


THIS  Memoir  of  GOVERNOR  ANDREW  was  prepared 
at  the  request  of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Soci 
ety  and  appeared  in  their  Proceedings  for  April,  1880. 
The  publishers  have  obtained  consent  to  re-print  it, 
and  the  author  has,  at  their  solicitation,  added  some 
personal  reminiscences.  They  have  also  inserted  two 
literary  discourses  of  the  Governor  which  have  never 
been  published,  for  the  manuscripts  of  which  they  are 
indebted  to  the  courtesy  of  his  eldest  son,  John  For 
rester  Andrew,  Esq. 

OCTOBER,  1880. 


M188330 


PREFACE. 


IMMEDIATELY  after  the  death  of  Governor 
Andrew,  in  1868,  the  Massachusetts  Historical 
Society  took  appropriate  action,  and  a  member 
was  appointed  to  prepare  a  Memoir  of  our  de 
ceased  Associate.  The  unusual  delay  in  this 
work  has  arisen  partly  from  the  authoritative 
announcement  that  an  accomplished  writer  was 
collecting  materials  for  an  extended  biography  of 
the  great  War  Governor,  and  it  seemed  best  to 
postpone  the  sketch  for  this  Society  in  the  hope 
of  being  able  to  make  a  more  satisfactory  state 
ment  of  Mr.  Andrew's  life  and  labors,  from  the 
light  thrown  upon  them  by  a  biographer  selected 
by  the  family,  one  in  every  way  competent  to  the 
work.  It  is  now  probable  that  the  Memoir  re 
ferred  to  will  not  be  published  for  a  considerable 
time,  if  at  all.  Moreover,  at  the  time  of  Mr. 
Andrew's  death  the  fires  of  controversy  were  still 
burning,  and  it  was  thought  that  the  subject 
might  be  treated  in  a  more  just  and  dispassionate 
way  after  the  lapse  of  time,  when  the  principles 


O  PREFACE. 

on  which  he  acted  could  be  better  appreciated 
and  the  prophetic  character  of  his  writings  might 
be  tested  by  time  and  experience.  There  was 
also  a  natural  reluctance  on  the  part  of  one  of 
his  earliest  and  most  constant  friends  to  attempt, 
in  the  space  usually  allowed  for  matters  of  this 
kind,  the  analysis  of  a  character  so  remarkable, 
which  should  be  just  to  him  and  loyal  to  the 
truth.  In  the  Uffizi  Gallery  at  Florence  there 
is  a  remarkable  bust  of  Brutus,  left  unfinished  by 
Michael  Angelo.  An  English  scholar  explains 
the  fact  in  some  lines  indicating  that  the  artist 
abandoned  his  labor  in  despair,  because  overcome 
by  the  grandeur  of  the  subject :  — 

"Brutum  efficisset  sculptor,  sed  mente  recursat 
Tanta  viri  virtus,  sistit,  et  obstupuit." 

It  is  with  something  of  this  feeling  that  the 
sketch  just  now  prepared  is  submitted  to  the 
Society. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

PREFACE       5 

MEMOIR        n 

PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 75 

ORATION  BEFORE  THE  ATHEN/EAN  SOCIETY^OF 

BOWDOIN  COLLEGE,  SEPTEMBER,  1844  .  .145 
ADDRESS  AT  THE  MAINE  FEMALE  SEMINARY, 

JULY,   1859 199 

VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS   BEFORE   THE  LEGISLA 
TURE  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  JANUARY,  1866    239 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PORTRAIT  OF  GOVERNOR  ANDREW     .      Frontispiece. 

FAC-SIMILE  OF  HANDWRITING 24 

BIRTHPLACE 72 

MONUMENT  AT  HINGHAM 142 


MEMOIR. 


MEMOIR. 


JOHN  ALBION  ANDREW,  the  twenty-first 
Governor  of  Massachusetts,  was  born  at 
Windham,  a  small  town  near  Portland,  in 
the  State  of  Maine,  May  31,  1818.  The 
family  descended  from  Robert  Andrew, 
who  came  from  England  to  Rowley  Vil 
lage,  now  Boxford,  and  died  there  in  1688. 
A  grandmother  of  Governor  Andrew  was 
the  granddaughter  of  the  famous  Captain 
William  Pickering,  and  the  mother  of  her 
husband  was  Mary  Higginson,  a  descend 
ant  of  Francis  Higginson.  His  grand 
father  was  originally  a  silversmith,  and 
afterward  a  merchant  in  Salem,  where  his 
son  Jonathan,  the  Governor's  father,  was 
born  in  1782.  The  latter  was  educated  in 
the  public  schools  and  became  a  trader. 


12 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

He  left  Salem  in  early  manhood  for  Wind- 
ham,  where  he  bought  a  small  house,  still 
standing,  near  the  Presumpscot  River,  and 
established  the  business  of  a  general  trader, 
in  which  he  was  fairly  well  successful.  He 
was  greatly  respected  as  a  citizen,  a  dea 
con  of  the  church,  a  man  of  substance 
and  of  great  influence.  In  1817  he  mar 
ried,  under  interesting  circumstances,  Miss 
Nancy  Green  Pierce,  of  New  Hampshire, 
who  was  a  teacher  in  the  celebrated  acad 
emy  at  Fryeburg,  where  Daniel  Webster 
was  once  employed  in  the  same  capacity 
She  was  thrown  from  a  horse,  and  was 
taken  to  a  tavern  in  Naples  where  young 
Andrew  happened  to  be.  An  acquaintance 
there  formed  resulted  in  marriage. 

Both  of  these  young  people  were  above 
the  ordinary  mark.  Jonathan  Andrew 
was  a  quiet,  reticent  man,  of  much  intelli 
gence  and  a  keen  perception  of  the  ludi 
crous.  Firm,  courageous  and  resolute,  he 
was  at  the  same  time  shy,  and  so  unobtru 
sive  as  to  pass  for  less  than  his  worth, 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  13 

except  to  those  who  knew  him  well.  Of 
his  wife  it  is  almost  impossible  to  speak  in 
terms  of  exaggeration.  She  was  well  edu 
cated,  with  great  sweetness  of  temper,  and 
altogether  highly  prepossessing  in  appear 
ance.  They  had  four  children,  all  of 
whom  are  now  living,  except  the  oldest, — 
John  Albion,  born  May  31,  1818;  Isaac 
Watson,  born  Aug  n,  1819;  Sarah  Eliza 
beth,  born  September  6,  1822;  Nancy 
Alfreda,  born  May  21,  1824. 

There  never  was  a  more  united  and 
happy  family.  The  father  possessed  am 
ple  means  for  their  education,  and  left  his 
household  to  the  good  management  of  his 
wife,  who  was  admirable  in  her  domestic 
arrangements,  judicious,  sensible,  energetic, 
and  a  rigid  disciplinarian  of  her  children. 
There  was  a  rare  union  of  gentleness  and 
force  in  this  woman,  which  made  her  gen 
erally  attractive,  and  especially  endeared 
her  to  all  who  came  under  the  influence  of 
her  character. 

"  Her  voice  was  ever  soft, 
Gentle  and  low,  — an  excellent  thing  in  woman." 


14  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

She  was  a  fine  singer,  and  had  remarkable 
conversational  powers.1  Their  home  was 
the  usual  resort  of  the  ministers  when  visit 
ing  or  journeying  through  the  town,  and 
in  this  way  the  family  had  excellent  oppor 
tunities  for  acquiring  information  from  the 
cultured  men  of  the  day.  Mr.  Andrew 
disliked  to  send  his  children  to  the  public 
school,  but  built  a  schoolhouse  on  his  own 
land.  '  Mrs.  Andrew,  who  had  been  in  fee 
ble  health  for  several  years,  died  on  the  7th 
of  March,  1832,  aged  48.  It  was  a  great 
shock  to  her  husband,  who  never  afterward 
took  much  interest  in  business  affairs.  He 


1  Mr.  Andrew,  being  naturally  quite  taciturn,  always 
desired  his  wife  to  lead  off  in  conversation.  The  Gov 
ernor  used  to  tell  with  great  glee  a  story  which  illustrated 
their  different  characteristics.  The  deacon,  like  all  the 
country  traders  of  that  day,  dealt  in  ardent  spirits.  When 
the  temperance  reform  was  started,  his  wife  entered  into 
it  with  great  interest.  She  was  particularly  desirous  that 
he  should  give  up  the  sale  of  liquor.  For  weeks,  the  chil 
dren  used  to  hear  her,  after  retiring,  lecture  their  father 
on  the  subject  with  earnest  volubility.  He  kept  silent; 
but  at  length,  one  night  after  a  discourse  of  unusual  length 
and  vivacity,  told  her  quietly  that  he  had  given  up  the  sale 
for  some  months. 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  15 

soon  sold  out  his  property  in  Windham, 
and  removed  to  a  farm  in  Boxford,  in  the 
county  where  he  was  born.  He  died  in 
September,  1849,  at  the  age  of  6;.1 

His  oldest  son  was  fitted  for  college  at 
Gorham  Academy,  then  under  the  charge 
of  a  celebrated  teacher,  the  Rev.  Reuben 
Nason.  He  entered  Bowdoin  College,  in 
I833,  where  his  career  was  in  no  way  re 
markable.  He  is  remembered  as  a  bright, 
genial  boy,  of  curly  hair  and  a  somewhat 
peculiar  appearance,  short,  very  thick,  and 
his  head  and  body  out  of  proportion  to  the 
lower  extremities.  He  was  not  adapted  to 
the  ordinary  college  sports,  in  which  he 
appeared  to  take  very  little  interest.  As  a 

1  Jonathan  Andrew  was  devotedly  attached  to  his  chil 
dren  ;  but,  like  all  shy  and  taciturn  men,  he  was  grave  in 
appearance,  and  his  children  had  something  of  the  old- 
fashioned  awe  and  respect  in  their  intercourse  with  him. 
In  the  only  letter  to  him  from  the  Governor  which  is  pre 
served  (1844),  he  is  addressed  as  "  Honored  Father,"  and 
the  signature  is  "  Your  dutiful  son."  The  first  letter  John 
A.  Andrew  wrote  to  his  father  in  college  was  addressed 
"  Dear  Father,"  and  signed,  "  Yours  affectionately."  The 
father  sent  him  word  that  this  was  not  proper,  but  that  his 
letters  should  be  addressed  as  above. 


1 6  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

scholar  he  was  among  the  lowest  in  the 
class;  he  took  no  part  at  Commencement. 
But  he  was  by  no  means  an  idler.  On  the 
contrary  he  was  constantly  occupied  in 
general  reading,  greatly  interested  in  cur 
rent  literature,  and  always  ready  for  discus 
sion,  especially  of  political  topics.  He  was 
popular  among  all  without  any  effort  to  be 
so,  and  always  so  genial,  without  the  least 
self-consciousness,  as  to  render  him  an  un 
usual  favorite.  He  was  not  regarded  as 
dull,  very  much  the  contrary;  but  he 
seemed  to  be  indifferent  to  the  ordinary 
routine  of  college  honors  —  possessed  of 
that  happy  temperament  which  enabled 
him  then  and  for  many  years  afterward  to 
pass  quietly  along  without  a  touch  of  the 
emulous  jealousies  and  temptations  that 
wait  on  the  ambitious  aspirations  of  the 
young  as  well  as  the  old. 

On  coming  to  Boston,  he  entered  the 
office  of  the  late  Henry  H.  Fuller,  with 
whom  he  passed  his  whole  novitiate.  It 
always  seemed  to  me  that  his  character 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  \J 

was  much  affected  by  contact  with  that 
somewhat  remarkable  and  much  misunder 
stood  lawyer.  Mr.  Fuller  was  a  man  of 
genial  temperament,  an  excellent  scholar 
(second  in  the  class  of  which  Edward 
Everett  was  first),  of  wide  reading  and  ex 
tensive  acquirements,  —  a  man  who  loved 
young  men  and  assisted  them  in  every 
way  he  could ;  and  also  of  such  marked 
peculiarities,  of  such  wonderful  crotchets 
and  such  heroic  obstinacy,  that  he  nat 
urally  and  especially  attracted,  and,  in  some 
respects,  almost  fascinated  his  pupil.  The 
attraction  between  him  and  young  Andrew 
was  mutual.  They  became  almost  like 
brothers.  The  student  sat  at  the  same 
desk  with  the  master,  entered  into  all  the 
business  affairs  of  the  office,  wrote  letters 
from  dictation,  and  was  consulted  on  almost 
every  subject  that  came  up ;  so  that  they 
seemed,  in  fact,  like  one  person.  Mr.  Ful 
ler  had  an  extensive  acquaintance  with  all 
sorts  of  men.  He  knew  the  personal  his 
tory  of  almost  every  citizen  of  the  town 


1 8  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

and  of  all  public  characters,  living  and 
dead.  He  had  decided  opinions,  which 
he  never  hesitated  to  pronounce  on  any 
suitable  occasion.  Mr.  Andrew,  with  the 
curiosity  of  a  young  man  fresh  from  the 
country,  took  this  all  in ;  but  what  is  re 
markable,  while  some  of  the  peculiar  traits 
of  the  master  stuck  to  the  pupil,  the  latter 
had  decided  opinions  of  his  own,  especially 
in  regard  to  American  slavery,  which  were 
sometimes  in  ludicrous  contrast  with  those 
of  his  senior.  Mr.  Fuller  was  a  conserva 
tive  of  conservatives.  He  stood  by  the 
ancient  ways  even  in  the  cut  of  his  coat 
and  the  shape  of  his  hat ;  his  ruffled  shirt, 
his  white  cravat,  shirt-collar,  and  tall  bell- 
crowned  hat  of  real  fur,  were  significant  of 
a  past  generation.  Young  Andrew  became 
interested  in  many  of  the  reform  move 
ments  of  the  day,  and  was  as  firm  and 
peculiar  in  one  direction  as  his  friend  was 
in  another. 

He  did  not  rise  rapidly  at  the  bar.     He 
was  a  faithful  and  painstaking  lawyer,  look- 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  19 

ing  up  his  cases  with  care  and  industry, 
and  probably  never  lost  a  client  who  had 
once  employed  him.  Here,  too,  he  always 
seemed  destitute  of  ambition  —  that  is,  in 
the  ordinary  meaning  of  the  term.  He  did 
his  duty  and  there  was  an  end.  It  has 
been  said  that  he  was  not  a  learned  lawyer. 
Perhaps  in  one  sense  he  was  not ;  he  cer 
tainly  was  not  a  legal  pedant.  There  are 
men  who  study  for  the  profession  with1 
great  patience  and  perseverance,  who  mas 
ter  in  the  outset  its  main  principles  and 
are  thoroughly  prepared,  so  far  as  books 
are  concerned,  for  whatever  may  come. 
They  are  veterans  almost  before  they  have 
seen  service.  There  are  other  men  who, 
from  the  force  of  circumstances  or  their 
mental  characteristics,  have  not  carefully 
read  all  the  text-books,  and  are  obliged, 
after  coming  to  the  bar,  to  pick  up  their 
law  as  they  need  it,  —  raw  recruits  who 
will  become  veterans  by  actual  service,  un 
less  picked  off  in  some  battle  at  an  early 
and  unexpected  stage  of  their  practice.  By 


20  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   AND  RE  IV. 

studying  their  cases,  investigating  every 
collateral  point  and  going  to  the  bottom  of 
the  matter,  they  are  enabled  to  master  the 
present  difficulties,  and,  in  the  course  of 
time,  become  able  and  even  learned  law 
yers,  without  the  reputation  of  being  so 
from  the  fact  of  early  deficiencies. 

Mr.  Andrew  entered  upon  the  investiga 
tion  of  his  cases  with  great  zeal  and  indus 
try.  No  man  at  the  bar  studied  harder. 
When  he  tried  a  cause  he  meant  to  gain  it 
if  he  could.  There  was  no  sentimentalism 
here.  He  used  any  proper  weapon  he 
could  find  in  the  armory  of  the  law;  and 
he  liked  success  even  on  the  most  techni 
cal  points.  He  tried  a  case  with  courage, 
perseverance,  spirit,  and  a  dash  of  old- 
fashioned  but  manly  temper.  Those  who 
have  been  associated  with  or  opposed  to 
him  in  the  courts  know  very  well  that  he 
was  a  dangerous  opponent  long  before  he 
had  much  reputation  as  a  lawyer. 

During  all  these  years  he  was  not  what 
is  called  a  student,  but  was  never  idle.  He 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  21 

entered  largely  into  many  of  the  moral 
questions  of  that  day;  was  greatly  inter 
ested  in  the  preaching  of  James  Free 
man  Clarke ;  a  constant  attendant  at  meet 
ings  and  the  Bible  classes.  Occasional  lay 
preaching  being  the  custom  of  that  church, 
young  Andrew  sometimes  occupied  the 
pulpit  and  conducted  the  services  to  the 
general  acceptance  of  the  people. 

His  personal  qualities  were  most  attrac 
tive.  Those  who  admired  him  at  a  dis 
tance  loved  him  on  acquaintance.  It  is 
difficult  for  people  who  did  not  know  him 
intimately  to  appreciate  or  even  to  under 
stand  the  personal  magnetism  of  this  man. 
His  respectful  deference  towards  the  sex 
was  conspicuous,  his  love  of  children  in 
tense  ;  and  there  was  such  an  entire  sim 
plicity,  unpretending  geniality,  united  to 
fun  and  drollery,  as  to  attract  everybody 
to  him.  Everywhere  and  at  all  times  he 
was  welcome.  He  was  fond  of  music. 
Although  without  scientific  knowledge, 
he  had  a  good  voice  and  sang  with  great 


22  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

spirit,  especially  in  the  old  ballads  and 
hymns.  It  was  worth  a  journey  to  hear 
him  in  Coronation  or  Dundee,  Tamworth 
or  Old  Hundred.  He  was  an  excellent 
reader,  and  was  always  willing  to  delight 
the  circle  by  a  repetition  of  old  ballads,  or 
the  reading  of  poems,  particularly  of  Gray's 
Elegy. 

He  was  full  of  wit  and  anecdote  — 
brimful ;  not  merely  of  the  sort  which  is 
found  in  books  and  newspapers,  or  which 
floats  in  polite  society.  In  stores  and  tav 
erns,  in  stage-coaches,  among  the  laborers 
of  the  corn-field  and  in  haying-time,  he 
had  heard  the  Yankee  dialect  with  all  its 
wit  and  humor,  and  he  never  forgot  any 
thing,  especially  if  it  were  droll.  In  his 
knowledge  and  appreciation  of  New  Eng 
land  character,  of  the  town  system,  and  of 
the  laws  affecting  municipal  corporations, 
he  greatly  resembled  the  late  Chief  Justice 
Shaw,  —  that  great  magistrate  whose  grim 
appearance  on  the  bench  gave  no  token 
of  the  warm  heart  and  genial  nature  he 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  2$ 

actually  had,  and  the  love  of  fun  and  anec 
dote  which  was  conspicuous  in  the  social 
circle,  and  especially  at  the  Law  and  Fri 
day  Clubs. 

At  the  same  time,  Governor  Andrew, 
although  so  mirthful  and  even  boyish  in 
social  life  and  in  business  affairs,  was,  as  the 
chief  executive  officer  of  the  Commonwealth, 
a  great  stickler  for  proper  forms  and  cere 
monies.  It  was  also  quite  noticeable  that  in 
his  public  speeches  he  seldom  indulged  in 
a  humorous  strain,  or  told  a  story  to  illus 
trate  a  point  in  his  argument.  It  is  not 
improbable,  that,  while  he  gained  some 
thing  in  dignity,  there  was  a  loss  in  inter 
est  and  in  the  power  of  illustration,  which 
is  possessed  by  those  who  are  capable  of 
applying  homely  maxims  or  humorous  sto 
ries  to  argumentative  discourse.  Illustra 
tion  is  to  logic  sometimes  what  concussion 
is  to  pressure  in  mechanics.  The  blow  of  a 
mallet  may  drive  in  a  wedge  more  effectu 
ally  than  the  weight  of  many  tons. 

On  his  admission  to  the  bar  Governor 


24  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

Andrew  became  active  in  politics,  an  ener 
getic  and  enthusiastic  member  of  the  Whig 
party,  often  speaking  "  on  the  stump,"  and 
thoroughly  in  earnest.  Of  his  interest 
in  the  anti-slavery  movement,  it  is  neces 
sary  to  speak  a  little  more  at  length. 

From  early  youth,  Andrew  was  inter 
ested  in  all  questions  affecting  the  happi 
ness  of  the  race.  At  thirteen,  he  made  a 
speech  in  a  public  meeting  at  Windham, 
on  temperance.  While  in  college,  he  was 
constantly  discussing  the  anti-slavery  ques 
tion  :  and  it  was  at  this  time  (1833)  that 
he  sent  a  work  of  Mrs.  L.  M.  Child,  enti 
tled  "  An  Appeal  in  favor  of  that  class  of 
Americans  called  Africans,"  to  his  sisters, 
with  these  words  written  on  the  fly-leaf:^ 

'   .<;.'••** 

"To  my  two  sisters  this  little  volume  is  affec 
tionately  presented,  with  the  fervent  aspiration 
that  the  instruction  contained  in  it,  and  incul 
cated  by  one  of  the  gifted  ones  of  their  own  sex, 
may  prompt  their  hearts  to  pity  for  the  oppressed 
African,  may  uproot  all  prejudice  that  may  be 
implanted  there  against  those  immortal  beings, 
whose  only  crime  is  that  of  being  unfortunate 


*  • 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  2$ 

and  having  a  skin  of  a  darker  hue  than  their 
own,  and  may  teach  them  to  remember  that 
*  of  one  blood  God  made  all  the  nations  of  the 

earth.' 

"  Your  Brother, 

"  ALBION." 

In  1859,  he  was  a  member  of  the  lower 
branch  of  the  Legislature,  and  at  once  took 
a  prominent  and  leading  position.  In  1 860, 
he  was  nominated  for  Governor  of  the 
Commonwealth,  "  by  a  genuine  popular 
impulse  which  overwhelmed  the  old  politi 
cal  managers,  who  regarded  him  as  an  in 
truder  upon  the  arena,  and  had  laid  other 
plans. "  When  he  was  nominated  as  Gov 
ernor,  there  were  many  who  voted  for  him 
with  hesitation,  in  the  fear  that  a  man  so 
radical,  so  firm  and  so  outspoken,  might 
be  unsafe  in  action.  His  friends,  whether 
agreeing  with  him  or  not,  judged  him  better. 
They  knew  his  practical  sense,  and  felt  sure 
that  whatever  rhetorical  expressions  might 
have  escaped  his  lips,  his  action  would  be 
safe.  Even  they  were  disappointed,  how 
ever,  in  the  immense  executive  ability  he 


26  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

displayed  from  the  first  hour  he  entered 
the  State  House  until  he  left  it.  The  sim 
plicity  and  directness  of  his  action  as  Chief 
Magistrate  were  as  remarkable  as  they  were 
sometimes  amusing.  He  never  was  de 
terred  by  provincial  conventionalisms  from 
doing  what  he  thought  right,  and  in  the  way 
he  deemed  best.  Formalism  or  snob 
bery  or  red  tape  never  stood  in  his  way  a 
moment.  He  was  a  keen  observer  and 
understood  all  the  proprieties  of  his  posi 
tion  perfectly  well.  No  one  was  likely  to 
impose  upon  him  by  mere  manner,  and, 
while  he  never  intentionally  gave  offence, 
it  was  obvious  that  he  understood  the  char 
acter  of  men  very  well,  whatever  might  be 
their  style  or  dress.  He  found  no  difficulty 
in  discerning  merit,  although  covered  with 
rags,  and  a  black  skin  did  not  alarm  him. 
Indeed,  the  adverse  personal  surroundings 
of  men  that  usually  operate  against  them 
had  precisely  the  opposite  effect  on  him  ; 
and  he  was  sometimes  imposed  upon  by 
this  very  fact. 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  2? 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  that,  at  no 
period  since  the  adoption  of  the  constitu 
tion  was  the  position  of  Chief  Magistrate 
of  Massachusetts  so  arduous  and  responsi 
ble  as  at  the  time  of  his  accession  to  the 
office.  But  he  was  found  equal  to  the 
emergency,  and  early  acquired,  by  general 
consent,  the  title  of  "  the  great  War  Gov 
ernor."  This  is  not  the  place  for  any  thing 
more  than  a  general  statement  of  what  he 
did.  Nor  is  it  consistent  with  the  usages 
of  this  Society  to  enter  into  a  discussion  of 
controverted  political  points,  in  connection 
with  biographical  sketches  of  our  deceased 
associates. 

In  his  inaugural  address  (1861),  he  ad 
vised  that  a  portion  of  the  militia  should 
be  placed  on  a  footing  of  activity,  in  order 
that  "  in  the  possible  contingencies  of  the 
future,  the  State  might  be  ready,  without 
inconvenient  delay,  to  contribute  her  share 
of  force  in  any  exigency  of  public  danger  " ; 
and  immediately  upon  being  inducted  into 
office,  he  despatched  a  confidential  messen- 


28  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

ger  to  the  Governors  of  Maine  and  New 
Hampshire,  to  inform  them  of  his  determi 
nation  to  prepare  for  instant  service  the 
militia  of  Massachusetts,  and  to  invite  their 
co-operation.  His  military  orders  and  pur 
chases  of  war  material  subjected  him  to 
much  ridicule  and  reproach,  but  subsequent 
events  fully  justified  his  course,  and  his 
acts  were  looked  upon  as  evidence  of  re 
markable  foresight.  The  quiet  opposition 
at  the  time,  however,  in  the  Legislature  was 
very  strong,  and  it  came  in  considerable 
part  from  his  own  political  friends.  Indeed 
it  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that  while  an  unques 
tionable  majority  of  the  people  were  in  his 
favor,  a  majority  of  the  Legislature  was 
really  opposed  to  him,  although  not  ventur 
ing  upon  any  direct  collision.  A  leading 
member  of  the  House  and  of  the  party,  at 
the  session  of  1862,  told  me  that  Governor 
Andrew  ought  never  again  to  be  a  candi 
date  for  the  office  of  governor ;  that  his  re 
election  was  impossible.  His  ways  were 
not  the  ways  of  politicians ;  his  methods 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  29 

were  not  their  methods,  and  he  did  not 
count  much  on  their  support,  or  fear  the 
opposition  of  those  who  were  governed  by 
ideas  of  mere  expediency  in  emergencies 
involving  principles,  and  requiring  the 
earnest  efforts  and  unselfish  devotion  of 
men  who  hoped  for  ultimate  success  by  a 
firm  reliance  on  truth  and  justice.  He 
looked  with  something  like  contempt  and 
even  abhorrence  upon  all  makeshift  at 
tempts  at  compromise,  where  the  great 
interests  of  humanity  were  to  be  sacrificed 
to  the  pressing  emergencies  which  are  the 
refuge  and  final  destruction  of  the  weak 
and  cowardly. 

He  was  chosen  governor  in  1860  and 
retired  from  office  at  the  end  of  1865. 
These  were  years  of  unexampled  interest 
and  importance  in  the  history  of  the  coun 
try.  It  soon  became  clear  that  the  Gov 
ernor  was  remarkably  well  fitted  for  the 
new  and  trying  duties  of  the  position. 
Those  who  knew  him  best  were  of  the 
opinion  that,  in  the  ordinary  and  peaceful 


30  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

administration   of    affairs  he   mi^ht   never 

^5 

have  shown  the  remarkable  ability  which 
he  possessed ;  and  some  even  maintained 
that,  although  he  could  scarcely  have  made 
a  failure,  he  might  have  passed  into  history 
with  the  crowd  of  high  officials  who  per 
form  their  duties  fairly  well,  but  attain  no 
marked  prominence  in  the  history  and  pro 
gress  of  human  affairs. 

In  this  man,  however,  there  was  a  rare 
union  of  intellectual  ability,  enthusiasm, 
firmness,  unflinching  courage  and  undoubt- 
ing  religious  faith,  which  enabled  him  to 
meet  every  trying  emergency  as  it  arose,  to 
surmount  unexpected  difficulties,  and  to 
inspire  in  all  who  watched  him  an  admi 
ration  that  encouraged  while  it  sustained 
their  own  efforts  in  the  defence  of  the 
great  principles  on  which  our  government 
rests. 

It  is  impossible  in  this  brief  sketch  to  go 
into  much  detail  as  to  the  Governor's  ser 
vices  in  these  memorable  years,  but  an  allu 
sion  to  some  of  the  prominent  points  may 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  31 

be  expected.1  The  alacrity  with  which  he 
met  the  call  of  the  President  for  troops, 
and  the  energy  displayed  in  sending  off 
the  first  regiments  are  well  remembered. 
From  the  first  moment  that  it  became  clear 
there  was  to  be  war,  he  entered  into  the 
campaign  with  all  the  ardor  of  his  nature. 
"  Immediately,"  he  wrote  to  President  Lin 
coln,  on  the  3d  of  May,  "  on  receiving  your 
Proclamation,  we  took  up  the  war,  and  have 
carried  on  our  part  of  it,  in  the  spirit  in 
which  we  believe  the  Administration  and 
the  American  people  intend  to  act,  namely, 
as  if  there  was  not  an  inch  of  red  tape  in 
the  world." 

He  early  saw  the  weakest  point  of  the 
Confederates,  and  constantly  maintained 
that  a  blow  should  be  struck  at  the  institu- 

1  There  are  in  the  State  House  of  this  Commonwealth 
more  than  thirty  thousand  pages  of  letters  relating  to  the 
war,  and  Governor  Andrew's  private  correspondence  occu 
pies  some  five  thousand  pages  more.  Any  adequate  ac 
count  of  his  services  can  be  given  only  by  a  complete 
history  of  the  Civil  War.  During  his  administration  he 
sent  to  the  two  branches  of  the  Legislature  nearly  one 
hundred  messages. 


32  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.  ANDREW. 

tion  which  lay  at  the  foundation  of  all  our 
troubles,  by  calling  the  negroes  of  the 
South  to  rally  in  defence  of  the  flag. 
Others  had  doubts,  others  hesitated,  but  his 
vision  was  clear  from  the  start,  and  he  never 
wavered.  When  the  first  colored  regiment 
was  formed,  he  remarked  to  a  friend,  that, 
in  regard  to  other  regiments,  he  accepted 
men  as  officers  who  were  sometimes  rough 
and  uncultivated,  "  but  these  men,"  he  said, 
"  shall  be  commanded  by  officers  who  are 
eminently  and  technically  gentlemen" 

It  was  in  January,  1863,  that  official 
sanction  was  given  to  the  raising  of  colored 
troops.  The  Governor  obtained  in  a  per 
sonal  interview  with  the  Secretary  of  War, 
authority  to  raise  volunteer  companies  of 
artillery  for  duty  in  the  forts  of  Massachu 
setts  and  elsewhere,  and  such  companies  of 
infantry  for  the  volunteer  military  service 
as  he  might  find  convenient.  To  this  the 
Governor  added  with  his  own  hand  the 
words,  "  and  may  include  persons  of  Afri 
can  descent  organized  into  separate  corps," 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHM   A.  ANDREW.  33 

to  which  the  Secretary  assented.  This  was 
the  first  authorization  of  an  act  which 
caused  the  greatest  excitement  everywhere, 
and  struck  a  heavier  blow  at  the  enemy 
than  any  before  given.  One  bright  May 
morning  the  54th,  the  equal  of  the  best  in 
the  quality,  discipline  and  equipment  of  the 
men  and  the  character  of  the  officers, 
marched  down  Beacon  Street  and  passed 
the  Governor  in  review,  in  presence  of  fifty 
thousand  men.1 

In  regard  to  the  emancipation  of  the 
slaves,  Governor  Andrew  was  among  the 
first,  as  he  was  the  most  persistent  advo 
cate  of  a  measure  which  he  considered  the 
greatest  blow  that  could  be  struck  at  the 
enemy,  fully  justified  as  a  measure  of  war, 
and  demanded  by  every  consideration  of 
justice  and  humanity.  On  this  subject  he 
manifested  more  impatience  than  on  any 
other,  and  was  greatly  discouraged,  dis- 

1  Sketch  of  the  Military  Life  of  Governor  Andrew,  by 
Colonel  Albert  G.  Browne,  Jr.,  military  secretary  to  the 
Governor. 

3 


34  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

turbed,  and  even  disgusted  by  the  delays 
at  Washington,  and  the  obstructions  thrown 
in  the  way  by  those  in  authority.  All  this 
is  matter  of  history  ;  but  an  incident  oc 
curred  in  relation  to  it,  which,  so  far  as  I 
know,  has  never  been  in  print,  and  is  worth 
being  stated  in  connection  with  this  sub 
ject,  as  it  is  significant  in  more  respects 
than  one. 

Among;    the    Governor's   friends  was    a 

O 

young  merchant  of  Boston,  and  I  will  let 
him  tell  the  story  in  his  own  way : — 

"  It  was  in  the  summer  of  1862,  when 
emancipation  was  being  talked  a  great  deal. 
We  had  not  had  any  great  successes,  and 
everybody  had  a  notion  that  emancipation 
ought  to  come.  One  day  the  Governor 
sent  for  me  to  come  up  to  the  State  House. 
I  went  up  to  his  room,  and  I  never  shall 
forget  how  I  met  him.  He  was  signing 
some  kind  of  bonds,  standing  at  a  tall  desk 
in  the  council  chamber,  in  his  shirt  sleeves, 
his  fingers  all  covered  with  ink.  He  said, 
'How  do  you  do?  I  want  you  to  go  to 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  35 

Washington.'  '  Why,  Governor,'  said  I,  '  I 
can  't  go  to  Washington  on  any  such  notice 
as  this.  I  am  busy,  and  it  is  impossible  for 
me  to  go.'  '  All  my  folks  are  serving  their 
country,'  said  he ;  and  he  mentioned  the 
various  services  the  members  of  his  staff 
were  engaged  in,  and  said  with  emphasis, 
'  Somebody  must  go  to  Washington.'  '  Well, 
Governor,  I  don 't  see  how  I  can.'  Said 
he  '  I  command  you  to  go.'  '  Well,'  said  I, 
'  Governor,  put  it  in  that  way  and  I  shall 
go,  of  course.'  '  There  is  something  going 
on,'  he  remarked.  '  This  is  a  momentous 
time.'  He  turned  suddenly  toward  me  and 
said,  '  You  believe  in  prayer,  don  't  you  ?  ' 
I  said,  '  Why,  of  course.'  *  Then  let  us 
pray ' ;  and  he  knelt  right  down  at  the  chair 
that  was  placed  there  ;  we  both  kneeled 
down,  and  I  never  heard  such  a  prayer  in 
all  my  life.  I  never  was  so  near  the  throne 
of  God,  except  when  my  mother  died,  as  I 
was  then.  I  said  to  the  Governor,  *  I  am 
profoundly  impressed ;  and  I  will  start  this 
afternoon  for  Washington.'  I  soon  found 


36  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

out  that  emancipation  was  in  everybody's 
mouth,  and  when  I  got  to  Washington  and 
called  upon  Sumner,  he  began  to  talk 
emancipation.  He  asked  me  to  go  and  see 
the  President,  and  tell  him  how  the  people 
of  Boston  and  New  England  regarded  it. 
I  went  to  the  White  House  that  evening 
and  met  the  President.  We  first  talked 
about  every  thing  but  emancipation,  and 
finally  he  asked  me  what  I  thought  about 
emancipation.  I  told  him  what  I  thought 
about  it,  and  said  that  Governor  Andrew 
was  so  far  interested  in  it  that  I  had  no 
doubt  he  had  sent  me  on  there  to  post  the 
President  in  regard  to  what  the  class  of 
people  I  met  in  Boston  and  New  York 
thought  of  it,  and  then  I  repeated  to  him, 
as  I  had  previously  to  Sumner,  this  prayer 
of  the  Governor's,  as  well  as  I  could  remem 
ber  it.  The  President  said,  '  When  we 
have  the  Governor  of  Massachusetts  to 
send  us  troops  in  the  way  he  has,  and  when 
we  have  him  to  utter  such  prayers  for  us,  I 
have  no  doubt  that  we  shall  succeed.'  In 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  37 

September  the  Governor  sent  for  me.  He 
had  a  despatch  that  emancipation  would  be 
proclaimed,  and  it  was  done  the  next  day. 
You  remember  the  President  made  procla 
mation  in  September  to  take  effect  in  Janu 
ary.  Well,  he  and  I  were  together  alone 
again  in  the  council-chamber.  Said  he, 
'  You  remember  when  I  wanted  you  to  go 
on  to  Washington  ? '  I  said,  *  Yes,  I  re 
member  it  very  well.'  '  Well,'  said  he,  '  I 
did  n't  know  exactly  what  I  wanted  you  to 
go  for  then.  Now  I  will  tell  you  what  let 's 
do  :  you  sing  Coronation,  and  I  '11  join  with 
you.'  So  we  sang  together  the  old  tune, 
and  also  Praise  God  from  Whom  All  Bless 
ings  Flow.  Then  I  sang  Old  John  Brown, 
he  marching  around  the  room  and  joining 
in  the  chorus  after  each  verse." 

It  is  proper  to  say  here  with  emphasis, 
that,  although  Governor  Andrew  was  occu 
pied  during  his  whole  term  with  national 
affairs,  to  an  extent  altogether  unusual  in 
Massachusetts,  local  interests  of  the  Com 
monwealth  were  by  no  means  neglected. 


38  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

On  the  contrary,  he  exercised  a  careful 
supervision  over  all  the  institutions  that  had 
claims  upon  his  time ;  and  was  vigilant  in 
seeing  that  the  laws  were  promptly  exe 
cuted.  He  frequently  visited  the  various 
punitory  and  charitable  establishments,  and 
devoted  much  time  to  the  examination  of 
all  special  cases  where  there  were  questions 
in  regard  to  pardons  or  commutations  of 
sentence.  Although  strongly  opposed  to 
capital  punishment,  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
sign  the  death-warrant  in  cases  where  there 
were  no  special  reasons  for  dispensing  with 
the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law.  A  glance 
at  his  various  messages  to  the  Legislature 
will  show  that,  although  denominated  a 
"  War  Governor,"  he  was  by  no  means  inat 
tentive  to  the  ordinary  duties  of  his  office. 
The  first  message  of  the  Governor  (Jan. 
5,  1861)  was  largely  occupied  in  a  discus 
sion  of  domestic  affairs,  —  the  finances  of 
the  Commonwealth,  Valuation,  Agriculture, 
Banks  and  Banking,  the  Usury  Laws  (ear 
nestly  advocating  a  change),  Mutual  Insur- 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  39 

ance  Companies,  Public  Charitable  Institu 
tions,  Capital  Punishment,  Practical  Scien 
tific  Institutions,  Boston  Harbor  and  Back 
Bay,  Marriage  and  Divorce,  Cape  Cod 
Canal,  the  Provincial  Statutes,  the  Two 
Years'  Amendment,  the  General  Statutes, 
the  provisions  of  the  statutes  concerning 
Personal  Liberty,  the  Pacific  Railroad. 

All  of  these  topics  were  ably  treated. 
He  made  a  powerful  argument  against  that 
provision  of  our  law  preventing  the  mar 
riage  of  a  person  against  whom  a  decree 
of  divorce  had  been  granted.  "  This 
anomaly,"  he  said,  "  originated  many  years 
ago,  in  certain  ecclesiastical  theories  con 
cerning  the  institution  of  marriage,  and 
was  devised  by  the  ecclesiastics  themselves. 
In  our  own  age,  the  theory  upon  which  the. 
law  enforces  the  celibacy  of  a  divorced 
husband  or  wife  is  that  of  punishment  for 
the  offence  which  was  the  occasion  of  the 
divorce."  He  recommended  a  change,  so 
that  a  power  could  be  lodged  in  some  tri 
bunal  to  mitigate  the  hardships  of  the  law, 


40  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

according  to  the  circumstances  of  each 
case,  whatever  may  have  been  the  cause  of 
the  dissolution  of  the  marriage. 

A  bill  was  introduced  in  accordance  with 
this  suggestion,  but  it  met  with  most  vio 
lent  opposition,  especially  from  clergymen 
in  the  House  of  Representatives,  and  was 
defeated.  At  the  next  session  the  Gov 
ernor  again  referred  to  the  subject,  and 
renewed  his  recommendation  "  for  such  a 
modification  of  our  laws  touching  marriage 
and  divorce  as  shall  lodge  in  some  tribunal 
the  power  to  mitigate  the  penalty  of  celi 
bacy  as  a  consequence  of  divorce,  whatever 
may  have  been  the  cause  of  the  dissolution 
of  the  marriage."  It  was  not,  however, 
until  1864  that  an  act  was  passed,  con 
ferring  power  on  the  Supreme  Judicial 
Court  to  authorize  a  party  against  whom 
a  divorce  from  the  bonds  of  matrimony, 
for  the  cause  of  adultery,  had  been  granted 
(except  where  the  party  had  been  convicted 
of  adultery)  to  marry  again.  (Acts  of  1864, 
ch.  216.) 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A,   ANDREW.  41 

The  Governor,  in  his  message  (1861), 
called  attention  to  the  propriety  of  making 
some  change  in  the  usury  laws.  He  al 
luded  to  the  fact  that,  in  the  year  1818,  a 
very  able  committee,  appointed  by  the 
British  House  of  Commons,  made  an  elabo 
rate  report  recommending  a  modification 
of  the  usury  laws.  But  so  strongly  were 
the  people  opposed  to  the  measure,  that 
more  than  twenty  years  elapsed  before  any 
favorable  action  to  that  end  was  adopted. 
At  last,  in  1839,  a  law  was  enacted  by  Par 
liament,  exempting  bills  of  exchange  and 
promissory  notes,  not  having  more  than 
twelve  months  to  run,  from  the  operation 
of  these  laws  ;  and  for  twenty-one  years 
this  enactment  had  been  satisfactory  to  the 
British  public.  He  suggested  whether  a 
similar  change  in  our  own  laws  might  not 
be  wise.  Nothing  was  accomplished  at 
that  session,  but  in  1867  the  law  in  Massa 
chusetts  was  altered  to  a  greater  extent 
than  had  been  recommended  by  Governor 
Andrew. 


42  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

Governor  Andrew  was  strongly  opposed 
to  capital  punishment  and  recommended 
an  alteration  of  the  law  in  his  first  message. 
But,  as  before  remarked,  he  did  not  allow 
his  convictions  on  this  subject  to  interfere 
with  the  execution  of  the  law  while  it  was 
in  force,  and  signed  the  death-warrant  in 
several  cases  during  his  term  of  office. 

In  his  second  message  (1862)  he  sug 
gested  the  expediency  of  no  longer  insist 
ing  by  statute  that  each  Representative  in 
Congress  shall  be  an  inhabitant  of  the  dis 
trict  from  which  he  is  elected,  declaring 
such  a  law  to  be  unconstitutional. 

When  a  bill  was  reported  in  the  House 
of  Representatives  to  divide  the  Common 
wealth  into  legislative  districts  for  the 
choice  of  Representatives,  there  was  an 
exciting  discussion.  Mr.  Caleb  Cushing 
and  Mr.  P.  W.  Chandler,  advocated  the 
course  recommended  by  the  Governor, 
contending  that  the  restrictive  clause  was 
clearly  unconstitutional,  but  the  act  was 
passed  with  a  clause  requiring  the  people 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  43 

of  each  Congressional  district  to  limit  their 
choice  of  Representatives  in  Congress  to 
an  inhabitant  of  the  .  district.  The  Gov 
ernor  vetoed  the  bill  in  a  message  con 
taining  a  masterly  argument  against  its 
constitutionality  and  expediency.  The  act 
was  passed  over  the  veto  and  is  now  in 
operation  or  rather  is  unrepealed,  but  has 
been  practically  disregarded  in  several  in 
stances. 

The  message  of  1863  was  naturally  and 
necessarily  much  taken  up  with  matters 
connected  with  the  war,  but  the  economical 
and  other  special  interests  of  the  Common 
wealth  received  careful  attention.  The 
Harbors  and  Flats,  the  Troy  and  Green 
field  Railroad,  Banking  and  Currency, 
Pleuro-Pneumonia,  Farming,  Public  Schools, 
were  sensibly  considered.  There  was  also 
an  elaborate  discussion  of  the  acts  of  the 
37th  Congress  granting  to  each  of  the  sev 
eral  States  a  portion  of  the  public  domain, 
"  to  the  endowment,  support,  and  main 
tenance  of  at  least  one  college,  where  the 


44  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

leading  object  shall  be,  without  excluding 
other  scientific  and   classical   studies,  and 
including   military   tactics,   to   teach   such 
branches  of  learning  as  are  related  to  agri 
culture  and  the  mechanic  arts  in  such  man 
ner  as  the  Legislatures  of  the  States  may 
respectively  prescribe,  in  order  to  promote 
the  liberal  and  practical  education  of  the 
industrial  classes  in   the  several   pursuits 
and  professions  in   life."      The  apportion 
ment  to  each  State  was,  in  quantity,  equal 
to   30,000  acres  of  land  for  each   Senator 
and   Representative  in  Congress,  to  which 
the  States  were  respectively  entitled  by  the 
apportionment  under  the  census  of  1860. 
The  Governor  entered  upon  an  elaborate 
examination  of  the  whole  subject,  in  which 
he  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  Congres 
sional  grant  was  exposed  to  the  danger  of 
being  divided    in  each  State   among  sev 
eral    unimportant    seminaries    instead    of 
being  concentrated   on   one   institution  of 
commanding  influence  and  efficiency  :  — 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  45 

"The  Act  of  Congress  does  not  make  pro 
vision  sufficient  for  an  Agricultural  School  of  the 
highest  class  in  each  State.  Nor  would  it  be 
possible  now  to  find,  disconnected  from  our  col 
leges  and  universities,  as  many  men  of  high 
talent,  and  otherwise  competent,  as  would  be 
required  to  fill  the  chairs  of  one  such  school. 
But  Massachusetts  already  has  in  the  projected 
Bussey  Institution  an  agricultural  school  founded, 
though  not  yet  in  operation,  with  a  large  endow 
ment,  connected  also  with  Harvard  College  and 
the  Lawrence  Scientific  School.  She  can,  there 
fore,  by  securing  the  grant  from  Congress,  com 
bining  with  the  Institute  of  Technology  and  the 
Zoological  Museum,  and  working  in  harmony 
with  the  College,  secure  also  for  the  agricultural 
student  for  whom  she  thus  provides,  not  only  the 
benefits  of  the  national  appropriation,  but  of  the 
Bussey  Institution  and  the  means  and  instrumen 
talities  of  the  Institute  of  Technology,  as  well  as 
those  accumulated  at  Cambridge.  The  benefits 
to  our  State  and  to  our  country  and  to  mankind, 
which  can  be  obtained  by  this  co-operation,  are 
of  the  highest  character,  and  can  be  obtained  in 
no  other  way.  The  details  of  the  connection  of 
the  Bussey  Institution  with  the  Scientific  School 
and  the  College  are  not  yet  fully  wrought  out, 
but  I  apprehend  that  little  difficulty  would  be 
found  in  connecting  it  also  with  the  grant  from 


46  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

Congress,  if  the  gentlemen  who  may  be  intrusted 
by  the  State  with  the  work  will  approach  it  with 
the  perception  of  the  absolute  necessity  for  hus 
banding  our  materials,  both  men  and  money,  and 
concentrating  all  our  efforts  upon  making  an  in 
stitution  worthy  of  our  age  and  of  our  people. 
Its  summit  must  reach  the  highest  level  of  modern 
science,  and  its  heads  must  be  those  whom  men 
will  recognize  as  capable  of  planning  a  great 
work,  and  of  working  out  a  great  plan." 

The  message  of  1864  was  considerably 
occupied  by  a  consideration  of  local  sub 
jects  affecting  the  special  interests  of  the 
Commonwealth,  all  of  which  were  discussed 
with  an  ability  and  discrimination  which 
showed  that  they  had  been  carefully  exam 
ined.  He  recommends  the  establishment 
of  a  military  academy,  and  re-asserts  his 
opinion,  expressed  the  year  before  in  con 
nection  with  an  agricultural  college,  that, 
"  the  one  great  and  commanding  duty  and 
capability  of  our  Commonwealth  —  her 
way  to  unchallenged  influence  and  admira 
tion  among  the  States  —  is  the  discovering, 
unfolding,  and  teaching  the  secrets  of 


MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  4? 

knowledge  and  their  scientific  application 
to  the  arts  of  civilized  humanity." 

The  recommendation  of  Governor  An 
drew  in  regard  to  the  Agricultural  College 
was  not  acceded  to  by  the  General  Court, 
and  he  thus  alludes  to  the  subject  in  the 
annual  message  of  1865  : — 

"Although  overruled  by  the  better  judgment 
of  the  Legislature  as  to  the  views  which  I  had 
the  honor  to  present  at  length  in  the  annual 
address  of  1863,  and  although  I  remain  more 
fully  convinced  than  ever,  after  the  reflection  of 
two  intervening  years,  of  their  substantial  sound 
ness,  I  have  felt  it  to  be  my  official  duty  cordially 
to  co-operate  in  endeavoring  to  give  vitality  and 
efficient  action  to  the  college  under  the  auspices 
determined  by  the  law  of  its  creation.  Of  all 
the  places  offered  and  possible  under  the  charter, 
the  place  selected  by  the  Trustees  seemed  justly 
to  be  preferred,  having  in  view  all  the  relative 
advantages  of  each. 

"  My  own  idea  of  a  college  likely  to  be  useful 
in  the  largest  way  to  the  people,  most  vigorous 
in  its  growth,  promotive  of  the  progress  of  thrifty 
and  intelligent  farming,  productive  of  scientific 
and  exact  knowledge  (which  is  the  true  basis  of 


48  MEMOIR  OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

prosperity),  worthy  of  Massachusetts,  and  able 
to  command  the  respect,  while  it  challenges  the 
pride,  of  her  agricultural  community,  —  is  one 
perhaps  not  yet  to  be  realized." 

Whether  the  course  recommended  by  the 
Governor,  or  the  one  actually  adopted  for 
the  establishment  of  an  agricultural  college, 
was  the  best,  there  is  at  this  day,  in  the 
light  of  the  experience  we  have  had,  very 
little  doubt. 

While  in  office  Governor  Andrew  felt 
obliged  to  send  in  no  less  than  twelve  veto 
messages.  In  ten  of  these  the  bills  did  not 
pass  over  his  veto.  Of  the  two  bills  that 
were  passed  notwithstanding  his  veto,  one 
was  a  Resolve  authorizing  additional  com 
pensation  to  members  of  the  Legislature. 
The  other  was  an  Act  to  divide  the  Com 
monwealth  into  districts  for  the  choice  of 
Representatives  in  the  Congress  of  the 
United  States,  to  which  reference  has  been 
made  already,  which  passed  the  Senate 
(1862),  notwithstanding  his  veto,  by  a  vote 
of  22  to  11,  and  the  House  by  a  vote  of 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A..  ANDREW.  49 

137  to  67.  It  is  without  doubt  unconstitu 
tional  in  some  of  its  provisions  and  they 
have  been  in  fact  disregarded. 

Governor  Andrew's  character  as  a  man 
of  practical  sense  was  somewhat  misunder 
stood  before  his  election,  and  even  now  the 
error  is  not  entirely  cleared,  except  to  those 
who  carefully  watched  his  official  acts. 
When  a  distinguished  judge  expressed  some 
alarm  at  his  nomination  for  fear  of  his 
eccentricities,  one  who  knew  him  well 
replied,  "  Yes  ;  he  is  an  emotional  man  and 
a  rhetorician ;  he  may  have  made  some  ex 
travagant  remarks,  but  did  any  one  ever 
know  him  to  do  a  foolish  thing  ?  "  In  point 
of  fact  he  was  one  of  the  most  sensible, 
practical  and  safe  governors  we  ever  had. 
He  showed  great  sagacity  and  ability  in 
the  treatment  of  business  questions  where 
the  interests  of  the  Commonwealth  were 
affected,  and  his  recommendations  in  regard 
to  all  matters  relating  to  social  science  and 
the  economical  welfare  of  the  people  were 
discriminating,  sound  and  just.  And  so  in 
4 


5O  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   AX  DREW. 

regard  to  political  questions.  He  was  an 
anti-slavery  man  from  principle.  He  was 
thoroughly  in  earnest  in  his  opposition  to 
the  extension  of  the  slave  power.  While 
acting  with  the  Whig  party  of  Massachu 
setts,  he  never  went  beyond  the  line  au 
thorized  by  regular  resolutions  of  that  party 
adopted  time  and  again. 

In  the  course  of  a  long  discussion  of  the 
provisions  of  the  statutes  concerning  per 
sonal  liberty,  in  his  inaugural  address  of 
1 86 1  he  says,  "In  dismissing  this  topic,  I 
have  only  to  add  that,  in  regard  not  only  to 
one,  but  to  every  subject  bearing  on  her 
Federal  relations,  Massachusetts  has  always 
conformed  to  her  honest  understanding  of 
all  constitutional  obligations  —  that  she  has 
always  conformed  to  the  judicial  decisions 
—  has  never  threatened  either  to  nullify  or 
to  disobey  —  and  that  the  decision  in  one 
suit  fully  contested,  constitutes  a  precedent 
for  the  future." 

And  further  on,  while  speaking  of  the 
state  of  the  country,  and  condemning  in 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.    ANDREW.  $1 

severe  terms  the  course  of  President  Bu 
chanan  and  of  some  of  the  Southern  States, 
he  says,  "  And  yet,  during  all  the  excite 
ment  of  this  period,  inflamed  by  the  heats 
of  repeated  Presidential  elections,  I  have 
never  known  a  single  Massachusetts  Re 
publican  to  abandon  his  loyalty,  surrender 
his  faith,  or  seal  up  his  heart  against  the 
good  hopes  and  kind  affections  which  every 
devoted  citizen  ought  to  entertain  for  every 
section  of  his  country.  During  all  this 
trial-administration  of  the  national  govern 
ment,  the  people  of  Massachusetts  have 
never  wavered  from  their  faith  in  its  prin 
ciples  or  their  loyalty  to  its  organization." 

But  he  fully  comprehended  at  that  early 
time  the  momentous  issue  involved,  which 
was,  more  than  the  union  of  these  States, 
even  the  very  existence  of  a  republican 
government  in  any  country. 

"  Upon  this  issue  over  the  heads  of  all  mere 
politicians  and  partisans,  in  behalf  of  the  Com 
monwealth  of  Massachusetts,  I  appeal  directly  to 
the  warm  hearts  and  clear  heads  of  the  great 


52  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

masses  of  the  people.  The  men  who  own  and 
till  the  soil,  who  drive  the  mills,  and  hammer  out 
their  own  iron  and  leather  on  their  own  anvils 
and  lap-stones,  and  they  who,  whether  in  the  city 
or  the  country,  reap  the  rewards  of  enterprising 
industry  and  skill  in  the  varied  pursuits  of  busi 
ness,  are  honest,  intelligent,  patriotic,  indepen 
dent,  and  brave.  They  know  that  simple  defeat 
in  an  election  is  no  cause  for  the  disruption  of  a 
government.  They  know  that  those  who  declare 
that  they  will  not  live  peaceably  within  the  Union 
do  not  mean  to  live  peaceably  out  of  it.  They 
know  that  the  people  of  all  sections  have  a  right, 
which  they  intend  to  maintain,  of  free  access 
from  the  interior  to  both  oceans,  and  from  Can 
ada  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  of  the  free  use 
of  all  the  lakes  and  rivers  and  highways  of  com 
merce,  North,  South,  East,  or  West.  They  know 
that  the  Union  means  peace,  and  unfettered  com 
mercial  intercourse  from  sea  to  sea  and  from 
shore  to  shore  ;  that  it  secures  us  all  against  the 
unfriendly  presence  or  possible  dictation  of  any 
foreign  power,  and  commands  respect  for  our 
flag  and  security  for  our  trade.  And  they  do  not 
intend,  nor  will  they  ever  consent,  to  be  excluded 
from  these  rights  which  they  have  so  long  en 
joyed,  nor  to  abandon  the  prospect  of  the  bene 
fits  which  Humanity  claims  for  itself  by  means 
of  their  continued  enjoyment  in  the  future. 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  53 

Neither  will  they  consent  that  the  continent  shall 
be  overrun  by  the  victims  of  a  remorseless  cu 
pidity,  and  the  elements  of  civil  danger  increased 
by  the  barbarizing  influences  which  accompany 
the  African  slave-trade.  Inspired  by  the  same 
ideas  and  emotions  which  commanded  the  frater 
nization  of  Jackson  and  Webster  on  another 
great  occasion  of  public  danger,  the  people  of 
Massachusetts,  confiding  in  the  patriotism  of 
their  brethren  in  other  States,  accept  this  issue, 
and  respond,  in  the  words  of  Jackson,  '  The  Fed 
eral  Union,  it  must  be  preserved!  " 

After  the  die  was  cast,  he  urged  a  vigor 
ous  prosecution  of  the  war  and  insisted  on 
every  measure  to  defeat  the  Confederate 
armies  that  was  consistent  with  the  laws 
of  war.  He  was  particularly  strenuous  in 
demanding  the  emancipation  of  the  slaves. 
On  this  point,  I  cannot  do  better  than  to 
quote  from  the  admirable  sketch  of  the 
Governor  by  his  military  secretary  during 
the  war,  Albert  G.  Browne,  Jr.,  Esq. 

"  Over  the  bodies  of  our  soldiers  who  were 
killed  at  Baltimore  he  had  recorded  a  prayer  that 
he  might  live  to  see  the  end  of  the  war,  and  a 


54  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

vow  that,  so  long  as  he  should  govern  Massachu 
setts,  and  so  far  as  Massachusetts  could  control 
the  issue,  it  should  not  end  without  freeing  every 
slave  in  America.  He  believed,  at  the  first,  in 
the  policy  of  emancipation  as  a  war  measure. 
Finding  that  timid  counsels  controlled  the  gov 
ernment  at  Washington,  and  the  then  commander 
of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  so  that  there  was 
no  light  in  that  quarter,  he  hailed  the  action  of 
Fremont  in  Missouri  in  proclaiming  freedom  to 
the  western  slaves.  Through  all  the  reverses 
which  afterwards  befell  that  officer  he  never 
varied  from  this  friendship  ;  and  when  at  last 
Fremont  retired  from  the  Army  of  Virginia,  the 
Governor  offered  him  the  command  of  a  Massa 
chusetts  regiment,  and  vainly  urged  him  to  take 
the  field  again  under  our  State  flag.  Just  so, 
afterwards,  he  welcomed  the  similar  action  oi 
Plunter  in  South  Carolina,  and  wrote  in  his  de 
fence  the  famous  letter  in  which  he  urged,  '  to 
fire  at  the  enemy's  magazine.'  He  was  deeply 
disappointed  when  the  Administration  disavowed 
Hunter's  act,  for  he  had  hoped  much  from  the 
personal  friendship  which  was  known  to  exist 
between  the  General  and  the  President.  Soon 
followed  the  great  reverses  of  McClellan  before 
Richmond. 

"The  feelings  of  the  Governor  at  this  time  on 
the  subject  of  emancipation  are  well  expressed 


MEM 018   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  55 

in  a  speech  which  he  made  on  Aug.  10,  1862,  at 
the  Methodist  camp  meeting  on  Martha's  Vine 
yard.  It  was  the  same  speech  in  which  occurs 
his  remark,  since  so  often  quoted:  — 

"  '  I  know  not  what  record  of  sin  awaits  me  in 
the  other  world,  but  this  I  know,  that  I  was  never 
mean  enough  to  despise  any  man  because  he  was 
ignorant,  or  because  he  was  poor,  or  because  he 
was  black.' 

"  Referring  to  slavery,  he  said  :  — 

"  '  I  have  never  believed  it  to  be  possible  that 
this  controversy  should  end,  and  peace  resume 
her  sway,  until  that  dreadful  iniquity  has  been 
trodden  beneath  our  feet.  I  believe  it  cannot, 
and  I  have  noticed,  my  friends  (although  I  am 
not  superstitious,  I  believe),  that,  from  the  day 
our  government  turned  its  back  on  the  proclama 
tion  of  General  Hunter,  the  blessing  of  God  has 
been  withdrawn  from  our  arms.  We  were  march 
ing  on,  conquering  and  to  conquer  ;  post  after 
post  had  fallen  before  our  victorious  arms  ;  but 
since  that  day  I  have  seen  no  such  victories. 
But  I  have  seen  no  discouragement.  I  bate  not 
one  jot  of  hope.  I  believe  that  God  rules  above, 
and  that  he  will  rule  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and 
that,  either  with  our  aid  or  against  it,  he  has  de 
termined  to  let  the  people  go.  But  the  confi 
dence  I  have  in  my  own  mind  that  the  appointed 
hour  has  nearly  come  makes  me  feel  all  the  more 


56  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

confidence  in  the  certain  and*  final  triumph  of 
our  Union  arms,  because  I  do  not  believe  that 
this  great  investment  of  Providence  is  to  be 
wasted.' " 

Governor  Andrew  was  inaugurated  Jan.- 
5,  1 86 1.  His  final  term  as  Governor  ex 
pired  Jan.  5,  1866.  On  that  day  he  deliv 
ered  to  the  two  branches  of  the  Legislature 
a  valedictory  address.  Without  asserting, 
with  one  of  his  biographers,  that  on  this 
address,  "  more  than  on  any  other  produc 
tion  of  his  pen,  rests  his  claim  to  the  fame 
of  a  great  statesman,"  it  must  be  admitted 
by  all  that  it  was  worthy  of  the  man  and 
of  the  occasion.  In  logical  acumen,  in 
clearness  of  statement,  in  breadth  of  view, 
it  is  as  remarkable  as  for  moderation  and 
firmness.  He  was  able  to  rise  above  the 
plane  of  party  spirit,  above  his  own  early 
and  intense  feelings  on  the  subject  of 
slavery,  and  to  advocate  doctrines  as  novel 
to  his  own  friends  as  they  were  surprising 
to  his  enemies.  The  time  has  not  yet  come 
when  this  production  can  be  fairly  judged 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.  ANDREW.  $? 

of,  but  there  are  few  who  will  not  recog 
nize  the  wise  and  tolerant  spirit  of  his 
utterance  when  he  said:  — 

"  I  am  satisfied  that  the  mass  of  thinking  men 
at  the  South  accept  the  present  condition  of 
things  in  good  faith  ;  and  I  am  also  satisfied  that, 
with  the  support  of  a  firm  policy  from  the  Presi 
dent  and  Congress,  in  aid  of  the  efforts  of  their 
good  faith,  and  with  the  help  of  a  conciliatory 
and  generous  disposition  on  the  part  of  the 
North,  —  especially  on  the  part  of  those  States 
most  identified  with  the  plan  of  emancipation, — 
the  measures  needed  for  permanent  and  universal 
welfare  can  surely  be  obtained.  There  ought 
now  to  be  a  vigorous  prosecution  of  the  peace,  just 
as  vigorous  as  our  recent  prosecution  of  the  war. 
We  ought  to  extend  our  hands  with  cordial  good 
will  to  meet  the  proffered  hands  of  the  South  ; 
demanding  no  attitude  of  humiliation  from  any  ; 
inflicting  no  acts  of  humiliation  upon  any ;  re 
specting  the  feelings  of  the  conquered,  notwith 
standing  the  question  of  right  and  wrong  between 
the  parties  belligerent.  We  ought,  by  all  the 
means  and  instrumentalities  of  peace,  and  by  all 
the  thrifty  methods  of  industry,  by  all  the  recrea 
tive  agencies  of  education  and  religion,  to  help 
rebuild  the  waste  places,  and  restore  order, 


58  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

society,  prosperity.  Without  industry  and  busi 
ness  there  can  be  no  progress.  In  their  absence, 
civilized  man  even  recedes  towards  barbarism. 
Let  Massachusetts  bear  in  mind  the  not  unnat 
ural  suspicion  which  the  past  has  engendered.  I 
trust  she  is  able,  filled  with  emotions  of  boundless 
joy,  and  gratitude  to  Almighty  God,  who  has 
given  such  victory  and  such  honor  to  the  right, 
to  exercise  faith  in  his  goodness,  without  vain 
glory,  and  to  exercise  charity,  without  weakness, 
towards  those  who  have  held  the  attitude  of  her 
enemies." 

The  pecuniary  means  of  Governor  An 
drew  were  always  small.  His  practice  had 
never  been  very  lucrative,  and  his  long 
public  service  effectually  broke  up  the  circle 
of  his  clients.  On  retiring  from  office,  he 
determined  to  return  to  the  bar,  and  de 
clined  various  honorable  and  lucrative 
offices  which  were  tendered  to  him.  He 
soon  entered  upon  a  large  practice,  and 
was  earning,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  at 
the  rate  of  thirty  thousand  dollars  a  year. 
One  of  the  cases  in  which  he  was  retained 
acquired  such  a  prominence,  and  subjected 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  59 

him  to  such  reproaches  as  to  require  some 
mention  here.  At  the  session  of  the  Gen 
eral  Court  of  Massachusetts,  commencing 
in  January,  1867,  petitions  were  presented 
by  upward  of  thirty  thousand  legal  voters, 
praying  for  the  enactment  of  a  judicious 
license  law,  and  for  the  regulation  and  con 
trol  of  the  sale  of  spirituous  and  fermented 
liquors  in  the  Commonwealth.  This  peti 
tion  was  represented  by  Governor  Andrew 
and  by  the  venerable  Linus  Child,  who 
called  as  witnesses  a  large  number  of  re 
spectable  citizens  from  every  profession 
and  occupation.  The  hearing  occupied 
more  than  a  month  and  excited  great  in 
terest,  partly  because  it  was  the  first  time 
the  subject  had  received  an  examination 
so  thorough,  but  mainly  from  the  fact  that 
there  had  never  been  so  determined  an 
assault  on  the  prohibitory  law,  on  principle, 
by  men  of  marked  character  for  ability  and 
high  standing. 

Governor  Andrew  summed  up  the  case 
in  an  elaborate  argument  and  attacked  the 


60  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.  ANDREW. 

doctrine  of  prohibitory  legislation  at  the 
root.  It  is,  he  argued,  only  in  the  strife 
and  controversy  of  life  —  natural,  human, 
and  free  —  that  robust  virtue  can  be  ob 
tained,  or  positive  good  accomplished.  It 
is  only  in  similar  freedom,  alike  from 
bondage  and  pupilage,  alike  from  the  pro 
hibitions  of  artificial  legislation  on  the  one 
hand,  and  superstitious  fears  on  the  other, 
that  nations  or  peoples  can  become  thrifty, 
happy,  and  great. 

In  reply  to  the  position  that  spirits  and 
wines  are  so  alluring  that  health  and  morals 
require  teetotalism  as  the  only  safeguard ; 
that  while  there  is  evidence  by  which  many 
men,  otherwise  trustworthy,  are  convinced 
in  favor  of  a  certain  temperate  dietetic  use 
by  some  people ;  yet,  the  moral  dangers  to 
the  mass  are  such  that  teetotalism  ought  not 
only  to  be  universally  volunteered,  but  that 
it  ought  to  receive  the  vindication  of  the 
statute-book  and  the  moral  support  of  the 
Legislature,  he  said :  — 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.    ANDREW.  6 1 

"  The  whole  argument  involves  one  of  the 
oldest  of  human  errors  ;  so  entirely  human  that 
it  has  no  shadow  of  countenance  from  the  reli 
gion  of  the  New  Testament.  This  world,  in 
which  while  in  the  body  we  must  abide,  and  this 
body,  in  which  the  spirit  dwells,  have  been  felt 
by  many  philosophers  and  moralists,  both  Chris 
tian  and  Heathen,  to  work  a  sad  imprisonment 
of  the  celestial  spirit.  The  immaculate  purity 
of  the  spirit,  soiled  by  any  indulgence  of  the 
gross  and  material  body,  recedes  from  all  human 
passion,  and  oftentimes  from  all  intercourse  with 
this  tempting,  dangerous,  material  world,  to  which 
alone  in  the  temptation  of  a  simple  fruit,  hang 
ing  on  one  of  the  trees  of  Eden,  is  due  our  whole 
experience  of  woe  and  the  awful  mystery  of  evil. 
The  Church  has  always  been  tolerant,  the  Church 
of  Rome  has  sometimes  been  too  indulgent,  of 
this  mysticism  ;  while  some  of  the  Protestant 
sects,  as  well  as  of  the  societies  in  the  Roman 
Church,  have  made  it  their  vital  principle.  But 
it  had  its  original  expression  in  Oriental  philoso 
phy,  not  in  Christianity,  nor  even  in  Judaism. 

"  When  our  Saviour  came  to  the  Jews,  He 
found  them  mainly  in  these  sects  or  divisions,  — 
the  Pharisees  and  the  Sadducees.  The  latter, 
relatively  small,  maintained  the  law  as  written  by 
Moses,  denying  the  traditions  of  the  Elders. 
They  were  rich,  educated  and  influential,  but 


62  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

cold,  hard  and  unspiritual.  The  Pharisees  were 
devoted  to  their  religion,  professed  to  live  meanly, 
to  despise  delicacies,  to  venerate  the  Elders. 
But  many  of  them,  with  ostentatious  prayers, 
sacrificed  the  heart  of  humanity  on  the  altar  of 
ceremonious  and  hollow  sanctity.  Besides  these, 
were  the  Essenes.  They  were  very  few,  and  were 
sincere,  but  narrow. 

"  Doubtless  recruited  from  the  sect  of  Phari 
sees  they  held  rather  to  their  general  views, 
which  had  an  ascetic  tendency.  But,  in  a  spirit 
of  devout,  self-denying,  mystic  yearning  after 
God,  they  sought  him  in  the  ecstasies  of  con 
templation,  through  exile,  poverty  and  want ; 
instead  of  facing  the  world,  bearing  its  social 
burdens,  risking  its  evils,  temptations  and  woes." 

"  The  Messiah  accepted  the  recognition  and 
the  baptism  of  John.  But  though  He  did  this 
honor  to  the  prophet,  and  accepted  his  emblem 
of  the  inward  purifying  of  the  soul,  and  of  the 
spiritual  and  celestial  character  of  his  own 
coming,  (as  contrasted  with  some  fierce  appari 
tion  of  triumphant  wrath,)  the  Saviour  immedi 
ately  made  clear  his  own  disagreement  with  the 
dogmas  of  the  Essenes,  and  the  notions  of  asceti 
cism. 

"  Soon  after  his  baptism,  there  was  a  marriage- 
feast.  Invited  to  attend,  He  joined  the  festivity. 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  63 

In  compliance  with  the  wishes  of  his  Mother,  the 
wine  having  failed,  Jesus,  by  miracle,  changed 
water  into  wine,  and  sent  it  to  the  master  of  the 
feast.  *  Thus  Jesus  performed  his  first  miracle 
at  Cana,  in  Galilee,  and  manifested  his  glory'  * 
By  these  two  actions,  of  emphatic  significance,— 
that  is,  by  attending  the  marriage-feast  and 
making  the  wine, —  our  Lord,  with  the  utmost 
publicity,  placed  himself  in  unequivocal  antago 
nism  to  the  asceticism  of  Nazarite  and  Essene, 
prevented  his  baptism  from  being  mistaken  for 
any  profession  of  adhesion  to  the  sect,  the  dog 
mas,  or  the  practices  of  John  ;  sanctioned  the 
domestic  tie,  which  the  Essene  contemned  ;  the 
use  of  the  beverage,  which  the  Nazarite  rejected; 
and  the  friendly  enjoyment  of  innocent  festivity. 
"  On  no  other  theory  can  we  understand  the 
meaning  of  his  joining  the  feast,  or  working  the 
miracle.  In  the  very  hour  of  festivity  the  dread 
ful  future  of  his  Passion  was  presented  to  his 
soul.  He  sympathized  with  the  social  joy  of 
others ;  but  He  was  sad  himself.  Nor  can  we 
regard  the  miracle  as  wrought  either  to  display 
his  power,  or  simply  for  the  hilarity  of  the  feast. 
It  would  be  to  degrade  the  character  of  our  Lord, 
and  imagine  motives  to  which  He  never  yielded 
in  the  use  of  his  heavenly  gifts.  If  we  perceive 

1  Gospel  of  St.  John,  ch.  2,  v.  1 1.    Norton's  translation. 


64  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

in  his  conduct  the  evident  testimony  He  bore 
against  opinions  sincerely  held  by  John,  but  of 
which  He  would  not  even  seem  to  be  the  adhe 
rent,  we  shall  better  understand  the  spirit  of  the 
occasion,  and  the  true  character  of  our  Lord,  and 
we  shall  learn  what  Paul,  the  apostle,  learned 
perhaps  from  the  story  of  the  same  miracle  (while 
Peter  needed  its  revelation  in  vision),  that  *  The 
kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink' 

"  Had  Jesus  been  accessible  to  ordinary  mo 
tives,  He  would  have  adopted,  or  at  least  indulged, 
asceticism.  It  would  have  given  Him  a  party 
at  the  beginning  of  his  career.  It  would  have 
belped  Him  to  defy,  or  to  puzzle,  the  Pharisees, 
and  to  turn  their  weapons.  But  He  was  absorbed 
in  the  infinite  purpose  of  a  mission  which  included 
all  human  nature,  all  times,  all  places,  and  all 
circumstances  of  men." 


This  argument  subjected  him  to  great 
abuse  and  even  vilification  ;  but  nothing  he 
ever  did  afforded  him  greater  satisfaction 
than  his  action  in  this  matter.  The  State 
election,  a  week  after  his  death,  completely 
revolutionized  the  policy  of  the  Common 
wealth  and  vindicated  his  position,  although 
it  could  not  protect  him  from  the  slander- 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.    ANDREW.  65 

ous  attacks  of  malignant  philanthropy,  for 
a  course  which  he  conscientiously  adopted, 
and  which  was  sustained  and  approved  by 
many  of  the  ablest  and  best  men  in  the 
community. 

Mr.  Andrew  died  suddenly,  on  the  3Oth 
of  October,  1867,  of  apoplexy.  On  the 
previous  day  he  had  been  engaged  in  court. 
After  tea  some  gentlemen  called  for  a  legal 
consultation.  He  suddenly  complained  of 
want  of  air  in  the  room  and  endeavored  to 
open  a  window.  He  staggered  and  was 
helped  to  the  sofa,  when  he  made  earnest 
efforts  to  speak.  A  pencil  was  handed  to 
him,  which  he  vainly  tried  to  use.  He 
lingered  in  unconsciousness  till  the  next 
evening  at  half-past  six,  when  he  died  in 
the  arms  of  his  only  brother,  Isaac,  who 
was  in  the  act  of  raising  him  in  bed  to 
assist  his  breathing.  The  body  was  laid  in 
Mount  Auburn,  but  was  subsequently  re 
moved  to  the  old  burial-place  in  Hingham, 
where  a  fine  statue  has  been  erected  over 
his  grave. 

5 


66  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   AND  RE  IV. 

The  death  of  Governor  Andrew  pro 
duced  a  great  sensation  throughout  the 
country,  and  was  suitably  noticed  by 
numerous  public  meetings.  The  bar 
meeting  in  Boston  was  presided  over  by 
Henry  W.  Paine,  and  was  addressed  by 
Richard  H.  Dana,  Jr.,  George  S.  Hillard 
and  others.1 

So  many  writers  and  speakers  have  un 
dertaken  to  delineate  his  character  that 
nothing  new  remains  to  be  said.  Mr. 
Parke  Godwin,  at  a  meeting  in  the  city 
of  New  York,  happily  summed  it  up  in 
these  few  words :  "  Simple  as  a  child  in 
his  manners ;  gentle  as  a  woman  in  his 
affections ;  earnest  as  the  enthusiast  in  his 


1  The  writer  of  this  sketch  has  made  free  use  in  it  of 
his  own  remarks  on  that  occasion.  In  1865,  a  committee 
was  appointed  to  procure  a  statue  of  Edward  Everett, 
and  five  hundred  subscribers  contributed  to  this  fund 
$33,000.  After  procuring  a  statue  and  a  full-length  por 
trait,  a  large  sum  remained.  Of  this,  $10,000  were  ap 
propriated  for  a  statue  of  John  A.  Andrew,  in  marble 
to  be  placed  in  the  State  House.  Thomas  Ball  was 
selected  as  the  artist,  and  the  statue  was  unveiled  Feb. 
14,  1871. 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  6? 

persuasions  of  truth ;  and  steadfast  as  the 
martyr  to  his  own  interior  faith ;  he  was 
yet  prudent,  moderate,  and  wise,  as  the 
statesman,  in  his  action."  And  Mr.-  Wil 
liam  M.  Evarts  well  expressed  the  feelings 
of  those  who  knew  the  Governor  most  inti 
mately  :  "  We  do  not  err  at  all  when  we 
say  and  feel  that,  up  to  the  time  of  his 
death,  to  human  observation,  he  had  been 
preparing  himself  and  gaining  that  opin 
ion  of  mankind,  that  fame  which  after  death 
is  superior  to  power  in  life,  which  was  to 
enable  him  to  fill  a  greater,  a  wider,  and  a 
more  useful  part  in  the  future  of  our  coun 
try." 

Of  this  remarkable  man  it  may  be  truly 
said,  that  he  was  fortunate  in  the  circum 
stances  of  his  life  and  in  those  of  his  death. 
The  son  of  parents  of  very  different  but 
extraordinary  traits,  his  early  training  was 
under  influences  of  the  best  kind,  while 
there  was  never  a  jar  in  this  happy  family, 
which  was  a  fair  representative  of  the  best 
in  New  England. 


68  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

There  was  no  lavish  expenditure  in  the 
education  of  the  oldest  son  ;  but  he  had 
every  advantage  that  he  desired,  was  always 
fairly  well  supplied  with  money,  and  never 
had  to  endure  the  mortifications  and  trials 
of  those  who  are  obliged  to  obtain  the 
means  for  their  own  education.  His  dis 
position  was  so  fine,  his  spirits  so  equal,  his 
temperament  so  hopeful,  and  his  general 
health  so  good,  that  the  carking  cares  and 
petty  trials  and  vexations  which  impede  the 
course  or  make  wretched  the  early  life  of 
many  men,  were  never  his  portion.  All 
this  should  be  a  consolation  to  those  who 
study  his  history  and  regret  their  own  defi 
ciencies  when  compared  with  such  an  ex 
ample.  Governor  Andrew  was  fortunate 
in  living  at  a  time  when  his  peculiar  talents 
could  be  used  to  such  vast  advantage  in 
public  affairs.  It  is  a  cheap  and  not  un 
common  criticism  of  successful  public  men, 
that  at  other  times  and  under  other  circum 
stances  they  would  have  made  no  mark. 
But  "  there's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  69 

ends."  In  great  emergencies  the  man 
finally  appears  who  is  fitted  to  take  the 
lead,  and,  under  Providence,  conduct  affairs 
to  a  successful  result.  To  say  that  any 
remarkable  character  is  fitted  for  a  particu 
lar  epoch  is  merely  to  admit,  what  all  reli 
gious  men  believe,  that  there  is  a  guiding 
Hand  above  and  beyond  all  human  trans 
actions.  There  has  also  been  much  unprof 
itable  discussion  as  to  what  constitutes  a 
great  man,  and  whether  true  greatness  and 
goodness  can  be  distinct.  The  dispute  is 
a  matter  of  definitions.  But  all  must  agree 
that  a  successful  man  in  the  ordinary  mean 
ing  of  the  term  may  be  neither  great  nor 
good. 

Governor  Andrew  was  successful  beyond 
the  lot  of  most  men  in  the  worldly  under 
standing  of  the  term,  and  he  was  at  the 
same  time  a  good  man  in  the  best  and 
highest  sense.  And  his  great  success  was 
in  kind  and  degree  such  as  would  not  have 
been  predicted  until  it  came.  He  was  not 
an  orator,  when  judged  by  the  highest 


70  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

standards,  for  he  lacked  the  early  culture 
which  is  essential  to  one  who  aspires  to 
the  noble  distinction  implied  by  that  term. 
But  he  was  an  impressive  and  persuasive 
speaker  of  considerable  power.  He  was 
not  a  polished  writer,  from  the  same  defect ; 
for  his  rhetoric  was  often  faulty,  and  he  had 
never  had  the  highest  training  in  this  re 
gard.  But  there  was  a  charm  about  some 
of  his  productions  that  few  men  of  culture 
could  fail  to  appreciate.  Nor  was  he  a 
statesman  in  the  sense  that  Chatham  and 
Burke  and  Bolingbroke  were  statesmen. 
Nor  a  great  lawyer  in  the  sense  that  Web 
ster  and  Pinkney  and  Marshall  were  great 
lawyers.  He  died  at  the  age  of  Webster 
when  he  made  the  speech  against  Hayne 
in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States.  It  is 
more  than  probable  that  if  Governor  An 
drew  had  lived  he  would  have  taken  rank 
among  the  highest  in  the  profession. 

And  yet  this  man  was  a  great  instrumen 
tality  in  the  most  important  and  grandest 
controversy  that  is  recorded  in  history. 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW.  7  I 

With  the  civil  war  his  name  will  always  be 
identified.  As  the  great  "  War  Governor  " 
he  will  always  be  known.  In  what  then 
did  his  greatness  consist?  The  answer  is 
and  always  must  be,  "In  his  character" 
He  wras  most  emphatically  what  Milton 
calls  a  square  and  constant  mind.  He 
stands  to-day  the  embodiment  and  repre 
sentative  of  manliness,  simplicity,  truthful 
ness,  justice,  —  of  all  the  qualities  which  go 
to  make  up  the  spiritual  substance  of  our 
being,  which  is  all  we  can  take  with  us  when 
we  leave  this  world,  and  which  will  never 
cease  to  influence  those  who  may  occupy 
the  places  we  now  occupy,  and  who  may 
try  to  do  the  works  that  are  set  before  us 
to  do. 

Mr.  Andrew  was  married  Christinas  eve 
ning,  December,  1848,  to  Miss  Eliza  Jane, 
daughter  of  Charles  Hersey,  of  Hingham. 
They  had  four  children  living  at  the  time 
of  his  death,  —  John  Forrester,  born  Nov. 
26,  1850;  Elizabeth  Loring,  born  July  29, 


7  2  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

1852;  Edith,  born  April  5,  1854;  Henry 
Hersey,  born  April  28,  1858.  The  family 
still  occupy  the  home  in  Charles  Street, 
Boston,  where  he  died. 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


THE  request  to  write  some  personal  reminiscences,  of 
Governor  Andrew  has  been  acceded  to  with  considerable 
hesitation.  Whoever  undertakes  a  labor  of  this  sort  sub 
jects  himself  to  the  imputation  of  giving  importance  to 
trifles  of  no  public  interest.  But  such  things,  when  they 
aid  in  reproducing  a  life-like  image  of  a  noble  and  dis 
tinguished  character,  are  worth  recording.  In  this  hope 
the  following  has  been  prepared. 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


MY  acquaintance  with  Governor  Andrew 
commenced  at  college,  where  we  were  not 
at  all  intimate,  as  I  preceded  him  by  three 
years.  When  I  had  nearly  completed  my 
novitiate  at  No.  4  Court  Street,  in  Bos 
ton,  Andrew,  who  had  recently  graduated 
(1837),  made  his  appearance  at  the  office 
of  Hubbard  &  Watts,  where  an  old  school 
mate  and  life-long  friend,  Cyrus  Woodman, 
was  studying  law,  and  asked  if  he  knew 
any  lawyer  who  would  take  him  as  a  stu 
dent.  Mr.  Woodman  thought  of  Henry 
H.  Fuller,  the  senior  member  of  the  firm 
of  Fuller  &  Washburn,  and  going  at  once 
to  their  office  on  the  northerly  side  of  State 
Street,  opposite  the  Old  State  House,  in 
troduced  his  friend  to  Mr.  Fuller.  After 


76  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

some  pleasant  talk  Mr.  Fuller  kindly  con 
sented  to  receive  him,  and  there  he  began 
his  law  studies  a  few  weeks  later,  in  the 
early  days  of  November.  The  affectionate 
intimacy  of  these  two  men,  so  utterly  dif 
ferent  in  tastes,  appearance  and  character, 
was  one  of  the  things  to  be  seen  in  order 
to  be  appreciated. 

I  was  then  living  at  the  excellent  board 
ing-house  of  Mrs.  Ann  Blodgett,  in  How 
ard  Street  (now  a  small  hotel  called  the 
Woodbine),  and  Andrew  came  there  to 
reside.  We  occupied  adjoining  rooms ; 
neither  of  us  aspired  to  first-class  accommo 
dations  in  the  house,  such  as  the  decently 
paid  clerks  in  shops  could  afford,  and  espe 
cially  the  gallant  militia  colonel,  who  sat 
at  the  head  of  the  table  and  occupied  the 
best  room.  We  enjoyed  the  attic  story. 
My  own  room  was  no  room  at  all,  but  a 
mere  closet,  with  just  space  enough  for  a 
small  bed  (I  think  there  was  a  bureau; 
there  certainly  was  a  wash-stand)  and  a 
chair.  It  had  no  window  whatever,  but  an 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  7/ 

opening  into  the  entry  that  served  for  air 
and  such  light  as  could  get  in  by  way  of 
the  sky-light.  It  was  called  the  "  Captain's 
Office,"  from  a  supposed  resemblance  to 
that  apartment  on  steamboats. 

Our  mutual  friend,  Mr.  Woodman,  who 
early  left  what  his  friends  deemed  the 
certain  prospect  of  honorable  success  in 
Boston,  for  a  prosperous  business  life  in 
the  West,  occupied  the  larger  room  of 
the  same  attic,  lighted  by  a  window  in 
the  roof,  which  could  be  raised  at  one 
end.  He  gladly  offered  to  share  this  ap 
artment  with  his  friend,  who  as  gladly 
accepted  the  offer.  The  expense  to  each 
was  thereby  lessened,  not  an  unimportant 
consideration  at  that  time.  On  the  whole, 
I  preferred  the  windowless  room  at  the 
same  cost,  with  single  blessedness. 

We  three  were  favorites  of  the  landlady, 
and  always  fared  well  at  the  table.  She 
was  doubtless  conscious  that  the  rooms  we 
occupied  were  not  in  great  demand,  and 
so  desired  us  to  remain.  Taking  a  mate 


78  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

myself  at  the  respectable  age  of  twenty- 
one,  I  left  the  attic  and  the  house ;  but 
Andrew  remained  there  several  years,  and 
my  closet  was  soon  taken  by  a  young 
student  who  has  since  made  himself  a 
leading  member  of  the  profession.1 

On  his  admission  to  the  bar,  Mr.  An 
drew  took  an  office  at  No.  19  Court 
Street,  occupying  the  same  room  with  Mr. 
N.  T.  Dow,  an  able  but  somewhat  eccen 
tric  lawyer,  who  was  afterwards  associated 
with  Mayor  Prince,  and  is  now  deceased. 

1  Mr.  Benjamin  H.  Currier,  for  a  long  time  assistant 
clerk  of  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court,  and  now,  at  the  age 
of  more  than  fourscore  years,  an  active  practitioner  at 
the  bar,  had  a  room  in  this  attic.  He  got  into  the  habit 
of  singing  the  old  psalm  tunes  in  concert  with  Andrew. 
As  they  occupied  different  rooms  and  both  had  good 
lungs,  their  efforts  were  not  conducive  to  sleep  by  those 
inmates  of  the  house  who  enjoyed  a  morning  nap,  and 
who  got  more  of  Coronation,  St.  Martyn's,  Dundee,  China, 
and  so  forth,  than  they  bargained  for.  Our  landlady 
kept  her  boarders  well  in  hand,  and  remonstrated  one 
morning  at  the  breakfast-table  with  Currier,  who  was  the 
older  of  the  two  offenders,  in  a  decided  manner.  But  he 
stood  by  his  guns,  and  closed  the  animated  debate  by  an 
emphatic  declaration,  "  I  will  sing  praises  Jo  my  God  in 
the  morning  as  long  as  I  live  !  " 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  79 

But  on  the  first  of  October,  1842,  he  became 
associated  with  Mr.  Fuller  as  partner,  on 
the  invitation  of  the  latter,  and  so  con 
tinued  until  he  removed  to  No.  4  Court 
Street  in  1846,  where  he  occupied  a  room 
with  Mr.  T.  P.  Chandler  until  his  election 
as  governor. 

His  progress  at  the  bar  was  slow:  his 
youthful  appearance  and  apparent  indiffer 
ence  to  success  were  not  in  his  favor.  But 
whatever  business  was  intrusted  to  his 
hands  was  faithfully  done  ;  and  he  early 
manifested  great  interest  in  the  poor  who 
had  legal  rights  or  remedies  to  be  cared 
for,  and  especially  in  those  who  were 
charged  with  crime.  No  one  who  had  a 
"hard  case,"  with  no  money  to  pay  for  legal 
assistance,  was  ever  turned  away  from  his 
office  for  that  reason ;  and  no  one  however 
guilty  was  denied  whatever  assistance  his 
case  was  fairly  entitled  to  receive. 

A  disposition  and  a  reputation  of  this 
sort  will  bring  clients  enough,  such  as  they 
are.  Nor  can  any  one  outside  of  the  pro- 


80  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.  ANDREW. 

fession  justly  appreciate  how  much  good 
may  be  done  by  listening  to  the  stories 
of  the  poor  who  are  charged  with  crime, 
and  by  carefully  investigating  the  circum 
stances  of  cases  which  to  a  casual  observer 
have  nothing  but  evil  about  them.  "  1 
thank  God,"  a  lawyer  once  exclaimed  to 
Andrew,  "  that  there  is  one  man  at  the  bar 
to  look  out  for  the  poor  devils  of  criminals 
who  are  guilty  enough  and  have  no  friends 
and  no  money." 

At  the  same  time,  such  a  reputation  as 
that  of  Andrew  had  its  inconveniences, 
not  only  for  himself  but  for  his  neighbors. 
After  he  removed  to  No.  4  Court  Street, 
the  entry  seemed  occasionally  to  be  full  of 
miserable-looking  wretches  who  were  wait 
ing  for  admission  to  his  room.  It  made  no 
difference  to  him.  He  bore  the  comments 
of  other  lawyers  on  his  ragged  crowd  with 
entire  equanimity.  He  did  not  defend  the 
crime,  or  take  the  criminal  to  his  heart ; 
but  he  was  always  determined  that  a  poor 
man  convicted  of  an  offence  should  have 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  8 1 

no  greater  punishment  than  he  really  de 
served  ;  and  that  he  should  not  be  con 
demned  for  want  of  assistance  to  bring  out 
every  thing  in  his  favor  that  could  be 
proved. 

There  is  a  remarkable  instance,  among 
others,  of  his  voluntary  interposition,  where 
a  man  was  convicted  in  Boston  of  piracy. 
Andrew  had  never  spoken  to  him  in  his 
life;  he  was  not  of  counsel  at  the  trial,  nor 
did  he  know  any  person  related  to  the 
prisoner  in  any  way.  But  he  quietly  de 
voted  some  weeks  to  preparation ;  went  to 
Washington  at  his  own  expense  without 
fee  or  reward  or  the  hope  of  any,  and 
pressed  upon  the  attorney-general  and  the 
President  (Buchanan)  those  considerations 
which  he  deemed  proper  to  be  considered 
in  support  of  the  application  for  executive 
clemency.  The  man's  life  was  saved. 

He  was  employed  a  good  deal  in  divorce 
cases,  especially  on  behalf  of  the  weaker 
sex.  One  of  his  sympathetic  temperament 
would  be  easily  as  well  as  deeply  affected 

6 


82  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

by  the  circumstances  ordinarily  attending 
such  a  business.  An  injured  woman  — 
especially  if  she  were  poor,  and  more  espe 
cially  if  she  were  interesting  in  manner  — 
would  secure  his  most  earnest  efforts  at 
once.  It  must  be  confessed  that  in  these 
cases  he  was  sometimes  grossly  deceived 
by  the  fair  sex,  and  the  guilt  which  was  as 
plain  as  possible  to  others  had  no  existence 
in  his  opinion.  Nor  could  he  always  re 
press  his  indignation  that  others  did  not 
agree  with  him. 

In  a  somewhat  notorious  case  of  this 
sort,  it  was  my  fortune  to  represent  the 
injured  husband  where  my  friend  was 
counsel  for  the  wife.  After  the  trial  had 
proceeded  a  day  or  two,  my  associate  and 
I  desired  to  avoid  the  scandalous  publicity 
of  a  further  hearing;  and  as  there  was  con 
clusive  evidence  of  the  woman's  guilt,  we 
sent  him  word,  and  offered  to  make  an 
arrangement  by  which  that  fact  need  not 
come  out.  He  regarded  this  as  a  sort  of 
bluff,  and  was  in  the  highest  degree  indig- 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES.  83 

nant,  sending  back  defiance  in  strong  lan 
guage,  in  which  there  were  some  pretty 
robust  expressions  that  he  would  not  have 
used  in  a  Sunday-school  address.  "  Tell 
your  master,"  he  shouted  in  conclusion  to 
the  astonished  messenger,  "  I  am  not  afraid 
of  him  and  all  his  crew."  After  a  long 
trial  the  decision  was  against  him,  but  I 
doubt  if  he  was  ever  convinced  of  its 
justice. 

He  gradually  came  into  a  different  prac 
tice,  where  he  was  employed  by  rich  clients 
in  the  management  of  important  interests 
both  civil  and  criminal.  He  "  got  up  "  his 
cases  with  great  care  and  patience,  made 
elaborate  preparation,  and  displayed  an 
ability  and  pertinacity  which  must  have 
secured  him  a  high  position  in  the  pro 
fession.  Indeed,  at  the  time  of  his  death 
he  was  doing  a  lucrative  and  successful 
business. 

Owing  to  a  lack  of  early  habits  of  appli 
cation,  it  was  difficult  for  him  to  sit  down 
to  hard  work ;  and  it  was  amusing  to  see 


84  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

him  with  his  coat  off  in  the  midst  of  a 
pile  of  books  digging  out  the  legal  roots 
with  the  painstaking  effort  of  one  to  whom 
such  study  was  not  congenial,  all  the  while 
telling  stories  and  indulging  in  jocose  re 
marks.  But  he  had  a  manly  courage, 
united  to  great  pertinacity  of  purpose,  and 
never  left  a  point  until  he  had  thoroughly 
mastered  it,  although  it  cost  him  far  more 
labor  than  it  does  those  whose  minds  are 
early  disciplined  by  earnest  application  to 
the  prescribed  studies  of  school  and  college. 
So  certain  it  is,  that  young  men  who 
waste  their  early  years  in  idle  pursuits  must 
pay  a  penalty  in  the  future,  if  their  ambi 
tion  is  roused  and  they  attempt  to  accom 
plish  any  grand  purpose  or  desire  success 
of  a  permanent  kind.  Andrew  took  low 
rank  in  his  class  at  college.  He  was  not 
in  a  certain  sense  idle,  for  he  was  a  great 
reader;  but  he  never  applied  himself  like 
a  man  who  "meant  business"  to  the  studies 
set  before  him,  and  he  felt  the  neglect  in 
all  his  after  life. 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES.  85 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that,  as  his  busi 
ness  increased,  he  was  retained  in  some 
important  cases  involving  grave  questions 
of  constitutional  law.  The  untiring  efforts 
he  made,  and  the  careful  investigations 
which  these  cases  required,  trained  and 
fitted  his  mind  for  the  trying  emergencies 
in  which  he  was  afterwards  placed,  so  that 
he  showed  an  aptitude  and  a  familiarity 
with  certain  subjects,  which  the  ordinary 
practitioner  does  not  usually  possess.  He 
defended  the  parties  indicted  at  Boston  for 
rescuing  the  fugitive  slave,  Burns  ;  he  de 
fended  the  British  consul  on  a  charge  of 
violating  the  neutrality  laws  during  the 
Crimean  war ;  he  argued  the  petition  for  a 
writ  of  habeas  corpus  to  test  the  legality  of 
the  imprisonment  of  the  Free-state  officers 
of  Kansas  at  Topeka.  He  was  largely  con 
cerned  in  the  preparation  of  a  defence  of 
John  Brown  in  Virginia.  These  and  other 
important  cases  (among  them  a  defence 
of  the  slave  yacht  "  Wanderer,"  against 
forfeiture),  involving  principles  of  interna- 


86  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.    ANDREW. 

tional  and  interstate  law,  received  careful 
examination  at  his  hands,  and  brought  forth 
fruit  an  hundred-fold  in  subsequent  years. 

In  politics,  he  was  an  ardent  and  even  an 
enthusiastic  member  of  the  Whig  party 
from  the  start.  On  this  point,  his  master 
in  the  law,  Mr.  Fuller,  doubtless  exercised 
some  influence  over  him.  He  believed  in 
the  traditions,  the  principles  and  the  policy 
of  this  great  party;  and  he  believed  that  by 
and  through  it  the  grand  reforms  he  hoped 
to  see  would  be  ultimately  accomplished. 

He  was  also  an  anti-slavery  man,  an  ad 
vocate  of  all  measures  that  could  be  consti 
tutionally  adopted  in  relation  to  slavery. 
He  was  a  warm  personal  friend  of  Mr. 
Garrison,  but  did  not  approve  his  methods, 
and  was  shocked  by  his  asperities  and  in 
discriminate  denunciation  of  slaveholders ; 
for  he  thought  it  was  possible  to  hate  slav 
ery  without  hating  every  slaveholder,  and 
to  abolish  it  without  destroying  the  Union. 
In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Garrison,  as  late  as  1860, 
he  declared  that  he  had  often  been  pained 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES.  8/ 

at  the  unremitting  and  frequently  unjust 
assaults  by  abolitionists  on  men  whom  he 
greatly  respected,  and  whose  services  in 
the  cause  of  national  and  impartial  liberty 
he  highly  prized.  "  My  fidelity,"  he  added, 
"  to  the  existing  institution  of  government, 
its  charters,  its  organization,  and  the  duties 
of  its  citizenship,  is,  ever  has  been,  and, 
I  doubt  not,  will  always  be  unshaken." 

After  the  nomination  of  Fremont  in 
1856,  he  came  to  me  and  expressed  much 
regret  at  the  threatened  disruption  of  the 
Whig  party  in  Massachusetts.  He  de 
clared  that  if  the  approaching  Whig  con 
vention  in  Massachusetts  would  put  a  good 
ticket  in  the  field,  and  take  no  action  against 
the  election  of  Fremont  for  president,  he 
and  his  political  friends  would  sustain  the 
nominations  and  so  strive  to  keep  the 
grand  old  party  alive  in  the  Common 
wealth.  An  effort  was  made  in  this  direc 
tion,  but  some  of  the  prominent  leaders 
were  so  opposed  to  the  course  that  noth 
ing  could  be  effected.  Resolutions  were 


88  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.  ANDREW. 

reported  by  George  S.  Hillard,  advocated 
by  J.  Thomas  Stevenson,  and  adopted, 
signifying  a  preference  for  the  candidate 
already  nominated  by  the  meanest  political 
party  (Native  American)  ever  known  in 
this  country.  This  course  was  intended  as 
a  declaration  of  war  against  Andrew  and 
all  who  acted  with  him.  The  record  of 
that  convention  is  a  singular  and  interest 
ing  one  to  read  now,  in  view  of  the  cata 
clysm  that  came  so  soon. 

The  Whig  party  of  Massachusetts  went 
down  with  colors  flying,  and  the  political 
waters  closed  over  the  gallant  ship  and 
most  who  were  on  board.  Many  of  those 
who  had  remained  with  the  organization 
up  to  this  time  were  disheartened  at  the 
course  pursued,  and  their  chagrin  was  in 
tensified  by  the  fact,  that  the  accomplished 
scholar  and  eminent  statesman  who  pre 
sided  at  the  convention  set  his  face  like 
flint  against  any  compromise.  They  com 
plained  that  it  was  only  necessary  for  the 
Whig  party  to  carry  out  its  own  resolu- 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  89 

tions,  adopted  time  and  again  in  conven 
tions  and  in  the  General  Court,  to  save  its 
organization  and  power  in  Massachusetts. 
They  were  charmed  with  the  eloquence 
that  portrayed  the  glories  of  the  Constitu 
tion.  They  agreed  to  all  the  praises  that 
were  lavished  on  its  Great  Defender.  They 
admired  the  courage  that  would  assault 
the  anti-slavery  hosts  which  were  gather 
ing  with  an  apparently  irresistible  force. 
But  they  felt  —  some  of  them  —  like  the 
French  General  Bosquet,  who  said  of  the 
charge  of  the  Light  Brigade  at  Balaklava, 
u  It  was  magnificent,  but  it  was  not  war !  " 
As  a  political  manager,  Mr.  Andrew  was 
not  a  success.  He  was  personally  popular 
all  his  life  and  with  all  sorts  of  people ;  but 
when  it  came  to  matters  of  principle  he 
was  too  straightforward,  square  and  em 
phatic,  to  suit  those  who  would  like  to 
accommodate  their  principles  to  special 
emergencies.  Moreover,  he  was  the  most 
obstinate  of  men  when  he  took  a  position, 
and  singularly  destitute,  in  a  ward  caucus, 


90  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW, 

of  that  tact  which  is  at  once  effective  with 
the  promiscuous  crowd  and  those  who  are 
clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen.  It  is 
amusing  and  eminently  suggestive  to  look 
back  on  those  days  of  small  things,  when 
Sumner  and  Andrew  and  others  like  them 
would  try  in  vain  to  accomplish  something 
at  the  primary  meetings. 

There  was  at  one  time  great  excitement 
about  the  Boston  schools,  when  Horace 
Mann  had  his  controversy  with  the  school 
committee.  At  No.  4  Court  Street,  we 
wished  to  have  Charles  Sumner  chosen  a 
member  of  the  committee  in  old  ward  four, 
where  he  resided.  Anticipating  the  diffi 
culty  of  obtaining  the  nomination  of  one 
who  had  so  little  popularity  with  the  peo 
ple,  and  who  uttered  such  pronounced 
opinions  in  regard  to  Mr.  Mann,  consider 
able  preparation  was  made  for  the  contest. 
Andrew  lived  in  that  ward  and  was  relied 
on  to  manage  the  affair.  It  was  a  wretched 
failure,  and  the  candidate  who  afterwards 
became  so  distinguished  was  severely 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  91 

snubbed  by  his  own  neighbors.  Sumner 
was  present,  and  I  think  not  much  sur 
prised  ;  although,  as  an  intimate  friend  of 
Mr.  Mann,  he  earnestly  desired  the  place. 
But  the  indignation  of  John  A.  Andrew 
was  great.  In  giving  an  account  of  the 
meeting,  he  wound  up  with  this  remark,  in 
order  to  contrast  Sumner's  magnanimity 
with  that  of  one  of  his  opponents,  "  There 
was "  (a  disagreeable  Cambridge  grad 
uate,  who  had  an  office  in  the  street  and 
affected  to  despise  Sumner,  and  who  has 
long  since  passed  out  of  sight  and  mem 
ory),  "  he  did  all  he  could  against  Sumner, 
and  the  latter  voted  for  him  as  one  of  the 
ward  inspectors ! " 

Mr.  Andrew  never  seemed  to  have  any 
ambition  for  public  office.  I  hardly  know 
by  what  influences  he  was  induced  to  go 
to  the  lower  house  of  the  Legislature  for 
1858.  But  there  could  not  have  been  a 
more  propitious  time  for  the  exhibition  of 
his  peculiar  talents,  and  for  a  popular  ap 
plication  of  his  political  principles.  The 


92  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

great  question  of  the  session  was  the  re 
moval  of  Edward  G.  Loring  from  the  office 
of  Judge  of  Probate,  which,  it  was  alleged, 
he  held  in  violation  of  a  statute  of  the 
Commonwealth,  rendering  it  incompatible 
with  the  office  of  United  States  commis 
sioner.  Mr.  Loring  in  that  capacity  had 
ordered  the  surrender  of  the  fugitive  slave 
Burns. 

By  an  act  of  the  Legislature  of  1855,  it 
was  declared  that  certain  offices  under  the 
government  of  the  United  States  are  in 
compatible  with  offices  of  honor,  emolu 
ment  and  trust  in  this  Commonwealth. 
Acting  on  this  provision,  the  General 
Court  had  several  times  by  address  re 
quested  in  vain  the  removal  of  Judge  Lor 
ing  from  office.  When  the  subject  came 
up  again  in  1858,  Mr.  Andrew  entered 
upon  the  discussion  with  characteristic 
zeal  and  enthusiasm.  On  the  other  side 
was  Caleb  Cushing,  one  of  the  ablest  par 
liamentarians  our  country  has  produced;  a 
man  thoroughly  versed  also  in  the  princi- 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  93 

pies  of  international  law,  of  great  logical 
acumen,  of  immense  erudition, — cool,  calm, 
inflexible  in  purpose  and  of  a  most  persua 
sive  eloquence.  In  learning,  legislative 
experience,  thorough  scholarly  discipline, 
and  a  familiar  knowledge  of  all  distin 
guished  writers  on  international  and  con 
stitutional  law,  there  was  no  equality 
between  the  two  combatants.  But  on  this 
particular  subject  of  slavery  and  the  rela 
tions  of  the  States  as  affected  by  that  insti 
tution,  the  young  legislator  was  a  match 
for  the  older  one ;  and  he  was  so  thoroughly 
in  earnest  and  so  in  accord  with  the  pre 
vailing  sentiments  of  a  majority  of  the 
people,  that  he  won  a  comparatively  easy 
victory  and  became  at  a  bound  the  acknowl 
edged  leader  of  the  House.  Few  men 
ever  made  a  great  reputation  so  suddenly 
and  held  it  during  life. 

Governor  Banks,  on  presentation  of  the 
address,  ordered  Mr.  Loring's  removal. 
After  the  message  was  read,  Mr.  Gushing 
denounced  the  act  in  severe  terms,  declar- 


94  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

ing  that  Judge  Loring  was  the  first  judicial 
officer  in  this  country  to  be  a  victim  to  the 
execution  of  his  sworn  duty  to  the  Consti 
tution,  according  to  his  conscientious  con 
victions,  and  prognosticated  that  the  next 
blow  would  be  struck  at  the  judicial  and 
constitutional  independence  of  the  Su 
preme  Court  of  the  United  States.  This 
brought  Andrew  to  his  feet,  who  made  a 
short  speech  which  was  received  with  the 
greatest  enthusiasm. 

At  the  close  of  the  session,  he  was 
offered  a  seat  on  the  bench  of  the  Supreme 
Judicial  Court,  which  he  declined,  and  he 
also  refused  to  permit  his  name  to  be  sub 
mitted  to  the  convention  of  his  party  as  a 
candidate  for  the  nomination  of  Governor. 
"  But  in  1860,  notwithstanding  this  absti 
nence  from  official  life,  he  was  nominated 
for  Governor  by  a  genuine  popular  impulse 
which  overwhelmed  the  old  political  mana 
gers,  who  regarded  him  as  an  intruder  upon 
the  arena,  and  had  laid  other  plans." 

My  personal  intimacy  with  him  did  not 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  95 

cease  on  his  elevation  to  the  chair  of  state. 
For  some  time  we  had  not  been  in  accord 
on  political  matters,  so  far  as  they  were 
affected  by  the  anti-slavery  agitation.  We 
had  a  good  many  discussions  and  some 
warm  ones  on  these  and  kindred  topics ;  but 
they  never  affected  our  personal  relations. 
When  the  war  was  actually  begun,  all  minor 
differences  disappeared,  and  the  whole  com 
munity  was  soon  united  in  one  purpose  to 
preserve  the  Union.  I  was  in  the  Legis 
lature  the  second  and  third  years  after  he 
was  inaugurated  as  Governor;  and  my  per 
sonal  observation  justifies  the  statement 
of  Colonel  Browne,  that,  in  his  conduct  as 
Governor,  Mr.  Andrew's  "  independence  of 
partisan  control  alienated  from  him  all  the 
trading  politicians,  and  would  have  broken 
down  an  ordinary  man  in  caucuses  and 
conventions,  but  he  possessed  a  strength 
which  was  independent  of  small  political 
managers.  They  were  always  against  him; 
and  the  influence  of  almost  all  the  old  lead 
ers  of  his  party  was  against  him,  also,  from 


96  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

the  day  he  was  first  named  as  Governor."1 
So  strong  was  this  influence  in  the  Legis 
lature,  that  it  was  at  one  time  almost  fatal 
to  any  measure  if  it  were  known  that  he 
desired  it,  and  occasionally  the  aid  of  a 
well-known  war  Democrat  was  relied  on  to 
introduce  or  advocate  bills,  so  that  it  might 
not  be  supposed  that  the  executive  took 
any  especial  interest  in  them. 

This  is  a  convenient  place  for  the  re 
mark,  that  the  Governor  was  fortunate  in 
securing  the  services  as  military  secretary 
of  his  intimate  friend,  Albert  G.  Browne, 
Jun.,  Esq.,  a  gentleman  of  first-class  ability, 
highly  educated,  a  good  lawyer,  and  a  rad 
ical  abolitionist.  Colonel  Browne  had 
wonderful  powers  of  endurance  :  he  never 
seemed  to  be  fatigued,  or  worried,  or  anxi 
ous.  He  understood  the  Governor  better 
than  any  other  man  living,  and  they  worked 
in  together  famously ;  so  harmoniously,  in 
fact,  that  to  see  them  on  opposite  sides  of 

1  Browne's  Sketch  of  the  Military  Life  of  Governor 
Andrew. 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  97 

the  table  in  the  Governor's  room,  one  might 
sometimes  be  almost  in  doubt  which  was 
the  chief  executive  officer  of  the  Common 
wealth. 

The  value  of  Colonel  Browne's  services 
in  those  trying  times  was  inestimable,  and 
they  were  fully  appreciated  by  his  distin 
guished  friend,  although  he  himself  never 
paraded  them  before  the  public,  or  ap 
peared  to  regard  them  as  anything  remark 
able.  He  was  subsequently  appointed  by 
Governor  Bullock  reporter  of  the  decisions 
of  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court,  and  held 
the  office  several  years.  It  should  be  added 
that  the  Sketch  of  Governor  Andrew  by 
his  military  secretary  is  the  best  account 
of  him  that  exists.  Nothing  can  be  more 
accurate  and  life-like  than  the  following:  — 

"The  arrangement  of  the  private  executive 
rooms  at  the  State  House  was  unchanged  during 
the  whole  of  the  Governor's  administration.  It 
was  faulty  in  many  respects,  and  a  few  simple 
changes  in  it,  enabling  him  to  seclude  himself, 
would  have  saved  him  from  much  care  and  an 
noyance.  They  were  on  the  same  floor  with  the 
7 


98  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW, 

Council  Chamber,  and  were  reached  through  a 
long  and  narrow  corridor  which  led  into  an  ante 
chamber.  Out  of  this  the  Governor's  apartment 
opened  directly,  with  no  intervening  room.  It 
was  a  low-studded  chamber,  perhaps  twenty-five 
feet  square,  lighted  by  two  windows  opening 
westward.  In  the  centre  was  a  massive  square 
table,  on  the  side  of  which,  facing  the  door  of  the 
antechamber,  the  Governor  had  his  seat.  Di 
rectly  opposite  him,  at  the  same  table,  sat  his 
secretary.  At  a  desk  near  one  of  the  windows 
was  the  place  of  an  assistant  secretary.  The 
chairs  and  sofa  were  very  plain  and  covered  with 
green  plush.  The  large  bookcases  along  the 
northern  wall,  empty  at  the  beginning  of  his 
administration,  became  filled  before  the  end  of  it 
with  more  than  two  hundred  volumes  of  the  cor 
respondence  conducted  under  his  immediate  di 
rection.  A  large  mirror,  with  a  heavily  carved 
black-walnut  frame  surmounted  the  mantel,  gas- 
fixtures  projecting  from  among  the  carving  ;  and 
on  these  during  the  first  year  of  the  war,  while 
Massachusetts  was  arming  and  equipping  her 
own  troops,  he  was  accustomed  to  hang  speci 
mens  of  shoddy  clothing  or  defective  accoutre 
ments,  labelled  with  the  names  of  the  faithless 
contractors,  thus  publicly  exposed  to  the  indig 
nation  of  the  hundreds  of  visitors  who  frequented 
the  room.  His  only  means  of  seclusion  was  to 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  99 

retreat  into  a  room  beyond  the  antechamber, 
from  which  there  was  no  other  outlet  than  the 
door  of  entrance,  which  was  of  solid  iron.  Every 
frequenter  of  the  State  House  may  remember 
seeing  him,  after  being  pestered  beyond  endur 
ance,  hasten  across  the  antechamber  into  this 
room,  where  he  would  bolt  and  bar  out  the  wait 
ing  crowd  until  he  could  finish  some  urgent  work 
demanding  freedom  from  the  interruptions  to 
which  he  was  subject  in  his  own  apartment. 
Once  behind  that  iron  door,  he  was  free ;  and  it 
was  the  only  place  in  the  whole  building  where 
he  was  secure  from  intrusion. 

"  His  patience,  however,  under  all  manner  of 
interruption  was  marvellous.  Now  and  then  it 
would  give  way  in  little  acts  of  nervousness,  such 
as  pulling  unconsciously  at  a  bell-rope  which 
hung  over  his  table,  or  insisting  on  the  immedi 
ate  attendance  of  an  old  and  favorite  clerk  from 
the  Adjutant-General's  office  who  had  been  dead 
a  year  or  more.  By  some  curious  psychological 
process,  when  the  Governor'had  been  especially 
vexed  at  anything  which  went  wrong  in  that 
office,  he  more  than  once  forgot  the  old  gentle 
man's  death,  and  sent  down  stairs  for  him." 

u  In  those  five  years  of  his  administra 
tion,"  says  the  military  secretary,  "  he 
tasted  the  cares  and  sorrows,  the  hopes 


100  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

and  joys,  and  concentrated  the  labors  of  a 
century  of  ordinary  life  ;  and  such  an  ex 
perience  aggravated  his  tendency  to  the 
disease  which  at  last  was  fatal.  No  soldier 
struck  by  a  rebel  bullet  on  the  battle-field 
died  more  truly  a  victim  to  the  national 


cause." 


It  was  touching  to  see  how  often  the 
Governor  vainly  sought  some  actual  se 
clusion  and  rest  from  engrossing  cares. 
He  wras  tried  almost  beyond  endurance 
when  suffering  from  the  severe  headaches 
to  which  he  was  constitutionally  subject. 
Of  a  Sunday  morning,  he  would  come 
down  to  my  house,  take  his  breakfast  of 
the  Yankee  dish  of  baked  beans  and  brown 
bread,  and  late  in  the  forenoon  make  his 
way  "  across  lots  "  over  the  unfrequented 
streets  of  the  Back  Bay  in  season  to  hear 
the  sermon  of  James  Freeman  Clarke. 
But  on  working-days  there  seemed  no 
respite.  If  he  remained  at  the  State 
House,  there  could  of  course  be  no  real 
seclusion.  If  he  went  to  his  own  home, 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES.  IOI 

the  door  would  be  besieged  by  an  importu 
nate  crowd.  If  he  took  a  room  at  a  hotel, 
the  fact  would  soon  be  known,  and  there 
could  be  no  peace  after  that.  On  one 
occasion,  when  greatly  suffering  from  head 
ache,  he  sought  the  house  of  a  friend  where 
he  was  very  intimate.  There  was  no  one 
at  home,  the  servant  said.  Well,  then,  he 
would  go  upstairs  and  lie  down.  When 
the  lady  of  the  mansion  came  in  from  her 
morning  calls,  she  was  greatly  astonished 
and  somewhat  amused  to  find  the  Governor 
of  the  Commonwealth  fast  asleep  on  her 
bed. 

Colonel  Browne  remarks  that  the  Gov 
ernor  "  in  his  military  appointments  never 
asked  what  were  the  political  associations 
of  the  candidates,  provided  only  they  were 
loyal  men.  General  Butler,  whom  he  des 
ignated  to  the  command  of  the  Massachu 
setts  militia  sent  to  rescue  Washington  in 
1 86 1,  had  been  the  candidate  of  the  Breck- 
enridge  party  for  Governor,  in  opposition 
to  himself." 


102  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

"  Provided  only  they  were  loyal  men?  It 
was  on  this  ground  that  he  rejected  the 
services  of  Caleb  Gushing.  He  had  pri 
vate  information,  which  he  considered  re 
liable,  of  Cushing's  stimulating  Virginia 
into  secession  in  the  spring  of  1861  during 
a  visit  to  Richmond,  and  entertained  a 
general  distrust  of  his  loyalty.  But  this 
distinguished  citizen  was  soon  afterwards 
employed  by  the  State  Department  at 
Washington ;  and  he  went  to  South  Caro 
lina,  just  before  the  firing  on  Fort  Sumter, 
on  a  confidential  mission  at  the  sugges 
tion  of  judges  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the 
United  States. 

On  his  tender  of  services,  the  Governor 
acted  with  great  promptitude.  The  cor 
respondence  on  this  subject  is  preserved  in 
the  archives  of  the  Commonwealth. 

NEWBURYPORT,  April  25,  1861. 
SIR,  —  I  beg  leave  to  tender  myself  to  you,  in 
any  capacity,  however  humble,  in  which  it  may 
be  possible  for  me  to  contribute  to  the  public 
weal  in  the  present  critical  emergency. 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES.  103 

I  have  no  desire  to  survive  the  overthrow  of 
the  government  of  the  United  States  ;  I  am 
ready  for  any  sacrifice  to  avert  such  a  catastro 
phe  ;  and  I  ask  only  to  be  permitted  to  lay  down 
my  life  in  the  service  of  the  Commonwealth  and 
of  the  Union. 

I  am,  very  respectfully, 

C.  GUSHING. 
His  Excellency  JOHN  A.  ANDREW, 

Governor  of  the  Commonwealth. 


COMMONWEALTH  OF  MASSACHUSETTS, 
EXECUTIVE  DEPARTMENT, 

BOSTON,  April  27,  1861. 
Hon.  CALEB  GUSHING, 

SIR,  —  Under  the  responsibilities  of  this  hour, 
—  remitted  both  as  a  man  and  a  magistrate  to 
the  solemn  judgment  of  conscience  and  honor, — 
I  must  remember  only  that  great  cause  of  con 
stitutional  liberty  and  of  civilization  itself  re 
ferred  to  the  dread  arbitrament  of  arms.  And 
I  am  bound  to  say  that  although  our  personal 
relations  have  always  been  agreeable  to  myself, 
and  notwithstanding  your  many  great  qualities 
fitting  you  for  usefulness  ;  yet  your  relation  to 
public  affairs,  your  frequently  avowed  opinions 
touching  the  ideas  and  sentiments  of  Massachu 
setts  ;  your  intimacy  of  social,  political  and  sym 
pathetic  intercourse  with  the  leading  secessionists 


104          MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

of  the  Rebel  States,  maintained  for  years,  and 
never  (unless  at  this  moment)  discontinued,  — 
forbid  my  finding  you  any  place  in  the  council  or 
the  camp.  I  am  compelled  sadly  to  declare  that, 
were  I  to  accept  your  offer,  I  should  dishearten 
numerous  good  and  loyal  men,  and  tend  to  de 
moralize  our  military  service.  How  gladly  I 
would  have  made  another  reply  to  your  note  of 
the  25th  inst,  which  I  had  the  honor  to  receive 
yesterday,  I  need  not  declare,  nor  attempt  to 
express  the  painful  reluctance  with  which  this  is 
written. 

Faithfully  your  obedient  servant, 

JOHN  A.  ANDREW, 

Governor. 

Mr.  Cushing's  letter  was  accompanied  by 
the  following:  — 

[Unofficial.] 

NEWBURYPORT,  April  25,  1861. 
DEAR  SIR,  —  I  pray  you  not  to  regard  the  ac 
companying  proffer  in  any  light  other  than  that 
of  earnest  solicitude  on  my  part  to  discharge  my 
duty  to  our  common  country.  Permit  me  to 
assume  that  in  our  past  political  relations,  as  cer 
tainly  as  in  our  personal  ones,  there  has  been 
nothing  to  forbid  me  to  make,  or  you  to  receive, 
such  a  proffer  at  the  present  time. 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES.  IO5 

You  alone  are  able  to  judge  whether  in  the 
scope  of  official  duties,  there  is  anything  to 
assign  to  me  to  do.  If  there  be,  or  not,  I  pray 
you  to  say  so  to  me  in  all  sincerity,  in  order  that, 
having  thus  placed  myself  at  your  discretion,  I 
may,  if  not  needed  directly  by  you,  then  decide 
according  to  my  own  judgment  what  to  under 
take. 

I  am,  very  respectfully, 

C.  GUSHING. 
Governor  ANDREW. 

Mr.  Gushing  was  a  good  deal  touched 
by  this  affair,  and  spoke  of  it  with  more 
feeling  than  he  usually  exhibited  in  matters 
personal  to  himself.  He  told  me  he  should 
make  a  formal  reply  to  the  Governor's  let 
ter,  or  place  among  his  papers  a  statement 
which  would  be  his  justification  in  the 
future.  That  he  did  neither  may  be  attrib 
uted,  perhaps,  to  a  consciousness  that  he 
had  used  strong  expressions  in  regard  to 
secession,  or  he  may  have  been  consoled 
by  the  confidence  which  was  reposed  in  his 
present  loyalty  by  eminent  persons  at 
Washington. 


IO6  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

Governor  Andrew  more  often  made  mis 
takes  in  regard  to  men  than  measures. 
This  arose  in  part  from  his  sympathetic 
nature :  for,  although  no  one  who  knew 
him  could  suppose  for  a  moment  that  he 
would  appoint  a  personal  friend  to  a  posi 
tion  for  which  he  considered  him  incompe 
tent  or  not  the  best  fitted,  he  was  some 
times  so  attracted  by  certain  prominent 
characteristics  as  to  overlook  deficiencies ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  he  was  sometimes 
so  shocked  by  glaring  faults  as  to  be 
unable  to  appreciate  excellences  which 
were  obvious  to  others.  His  tendency 
was  so  strong  to  protect  and  even  favor 
the  oppressed  or  those  who  were  under  a 
cloud,  and  even  those  who  were  criminal, 
that  he  would  go  far  out  of  his  way  and 
strain  a  point  to  assist  them.  Some  of 
his  friends  occasionally  thought  that  he 
acted  unreasonably  in  this  regard. 

There  was  the  case  of  Green,  who  was 
convicted  and  sentenced  to  be  hung  for 
one  of  the  most  cool,  dastardly,  and  cruel 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES.  IO/ 

murders  for  money  ever  recorded  in  the 
annals  of  crime.  The  Governor  was  op 
posed  to  capital  punishment,  but  understood 
the  proprieties  of  his  position  too  well  to 
nullify  the  existing  law.  He  ordered  the 
execution  of  Desmarteau  in  1861,  of  Her- 
sey  in  1862,  and  of  Callender  in  1863.  But 
he  made  up  his  mind  that  Green  was  not 
properly  tried,  and  he  never  changed  that 
opinion.  It  was  extraordinary  to  see  with 
what  pertinacity  he  followed  the  matter. 
He  refused  to  sign  the  warrant  for  execu 
tion  during  his  term  of  office,  and  there 
most  men  would  have  left  the  case.  Not 
so  with  him.  He  pursued  his  successor 
for  a  commutation  of  sentence,  and  ap 
peared  before  the  executive  council.  He 
prepared  a  legal  argument  for  the  court 
and  did  all  he  could  to  influence  the  press. 
I  always  supposed  that  his  personal  inter 
views  with  the  convict  in  prison  operated 
very  strongly.  He  was  full  of  the  subject 
and  would  talk  about  it  for  hours.  "  Every 
body,"  he  once  exclaimed,  "who  has  seen 


108  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

Green  knows  that  he  is  not  fit  to  be  hung  ! " 
This  was  perhaps  the  real  point.  He  re 
garded  the  culprit  as  a  weak,  feeble,  half 
witted  boy,  not  a  proper  subject  for  the 
gallows. 

A  friend  once  told  him  that  he  had  seen 
a  man  frequently  coming  out  of  the  State 
House,  whom  they  had  both  known  and 
respected  for  years,  but  whose  conduct  the 
friend  had  been  professionally  called  upon 
to  investigate.  The  party  had  been  crim 
inally  false  in  a  trust  and  admitted  it,  al 
though  he  had  done  what  he  could  to 
make  restitution,  and  professed  great  sor 
row.  The  Governor  flushed  up  as  he 
heard  the  story,  and  exclaimed  :  "  Well,  I  '11 
trust  him.  I  am  going  to  appoint  him  to 
an  office."  Reasons  were  given  why  he 
ought  not  to  be  trusted,  but  the  more  they 
were  urged,  the  firmer  the  Governor  was 
that  the  man  should  have  another  chance. 

A  young  man  was  appointed  to  a  some 
what  confidential  position  in  the  State 
House,  who  had  been  pardoned  out  of 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  1 09 

prison  by  the  President  of  the  United 
States  on  Andrew's  solicitation,  in  which 
he  was  aided  by  Edward  Everett.  The 
young  convict  was  extremely  useful,  but 
kept  up  his  crooked  ways  in  a  degree 
until  a  formal  remonstrance  was  made  to 
the  Governor.  The  latter  said  if  he 
turned  him  off  he  would  go  straight  to 
destruction,  and  preferred  the  responsibil 
ity  of  his  disreputable  practices  to  his 
utter  ruin.  But  the  official's  conduct  be 
came  so  bad  at  last  that  he  was  dis 
charged. 

It  was  of  this  person  that  a  witty  vaga 
bond,  whom  the  Governor  always  be 
friended,  once  said  to  a  clerk  in  the  State 
House:  "John  [the  governor]  is  trying 
to  make  something  of  Blank,  but  he  can't. 
I  tell  you  that  the  man  who  is  imprisoned 
for  a  long  term  for  stealing  and  gets  par 
doned  out,  and  when  he  goes  away  steals 
the  jail  syringe,  has  got  it  in  him  to  steal!" 
It  should  be  said  of  the  author  of  this  re 
mark  that  he  never  did  anything  worse 


HO  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

than  get  drunk,  but  he  was  very  bad  indeed 
in  this  respect,  and  was  once  imprisoned 
for  the  offence  in  the  same  jail  with  the 
young  man  above  referred  to.  Subse 
quently  when  he  was  at  the  Washingto- 
nian  Home,  the  Governor  sent  him  some 
money  by  "  Blank."  But  he  refused  to 
take  it,  and  wrote  to  the  Governor  request 
ing  him  to  send  it  by  some  one  else,  as  he 
was  trying  to  reform,  and  proposed  to  cut 
all  his  state-prison  acquaintances. 

It  should  be  stated  here,  that  while  the 
Governor  was  disposed  to  overlook  a  per 
son's  bad  antecedents  in  the  hope  of  a 
reform,  and  always  desired  to  "  give  him 
another  chance,"  he  could  not  be  persuaded 
to  do  a  public  injustice,  by  the  appointment 
of  men  to  positions  for  which  they  were  not 
in  his  judgment  competent.  He  had  firm 
ness  enough  when  occasion  called  for  it. 

When  a  certain  officer  desired  promo 
tion,  and  great  efforts  were  made  by  his 
friends  in  his  behalf,  the  Governor  was  sat 
isfied  that  he  was  not  the  man  for  the  place: 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES.  Ill 

he  had  made  careful  inquiries.  Many  citi 
zens  came  to  the  State  House  to  ask  for 
the  commission:  "The  Irish  would  en 
list  under  this  man."  It  was  of  no  use. 
Later,  a  large  delegation  of  leading  men 
came  in  a  body,  resolved  to  get  the  com 
mission.  They  labored  with  the  Governor 
two  hours.  He  was  courteous,  but  firm. 
They  withdrew  into  an  anteroom  for  con 
sultation,  and  soon  after  returned  with  this 
suggestion  :  "  If  we  go  home  and  come  to 
morrow  and  bring  old  Governor  Lincoln 
with  us,  and  he  will  indorse  this  man,  will 
you  commission  him  ? "  The  Governor  rose 
up,  and  bringing  his  fist  down  on  the  table, 
said :  "  Gentlemen,  if  he  was  as  good  a  sol 
dier  as  Julius  Caesar,  and  you  should  bring 
an  angel  from  heaven  to  indorse  him,  know 
ing  what  I  do,  I  would  not  commission 
him!" 

The  same  remark  as  to  the  Governor's 
partial  or  imperfect  judgment  of  men  may 
be  applied  in  a  larger  way  to  his  course  in 
regard  to  the  nomination  of  President 


112  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

Lincoln  the  second  time.  He  was  very 
active  in  the  movement  in  1864  to  dis 
place  the  President.  The  secrecy  with 
which  this  branch  of  the  Republican  poli 
tics  of  that  year  has  been  ever  since  envel 
oped  .is  something  marvellous ;  there  were 
so  many  concerned  in  it.  When  it  all 
comes  out,  if  it  ever  does,  it  will  make  a 
curious  page  in  the  history  of  the  time.  The 
signal  for  the  abandonment  of  the  move 
ment  was  first  made  in  a  speech  by  Mr. 
Chase,  in  accordance  with  the  general  opin 
ion  of  the  "  conspirators,"  that  it  was  inex 
pedient  to  press  it  further  after  the  Demo 
cratic  proceedings  at  Chicago.  Governor 
Andrew  lived  long  enough  to  see  the  error 
of  all  this.  Indeed,  after  the  re-nomination 
of  Lincoln  he  was  engaged  to  speak  in  be 
half  of  his  re-election  to  mass  meetings  in 
many  of  the  principal  towns  in  New  York. 
This  is  no  place  for  a  discussion  of  the 
reasons  for  the  anti-Lincoln  movement ;  but 
it  is  only  just  to  say,  that  the  reports  from 
Washington  in  1863  did  impute  a  frivolity 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES.  113 

of  language  and  demeanor  in  the  Presi 
dent,  which  could  not  but  offend  many 
earnest  men,  and  were  artfully  used  by 
eminent  persons  in  Washington  to  create 
dissatisfaction.  There  was  a  characteristic 
anecdote  related,  which  had  no  especial 
tendency  to  render  the  President  popular 
at  the  State  House  in  Boston. 

The  Legislature  had  been  famous  for 
passing  resolutions  against  slavery.  After 
the  war  began,  the  patriotic  spirit  of  mem 
bers  soon  showed  itself  in  the  same  ten 
dency.  But  there  were  some  who  thought 
the  time  for  this  sort  of  thing  had  passed, 
and  everything  offered  was  referred  to  a 
committee  who  brought  in  a  resolve  in  the 
fewest  words  possible.  A  friend  of  the 
Governor,  who  also  held  an  official  posi 
tion,  desired  to  present  it  personally  to  the 
President.  It  was  accordingly  written  on 
parchment,  with  the  great  seal  annexed, 
and  plenty  of  red  tape.  Arrived  in  Wash 
ington,  the  messenger  by  appointment  met 
the  President  at  eleven  o'clock  the  next 

8 


114  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.    ANDREW. 

day,  to  present  this  resolve  of  the  Com 
monwealth  of  Massachusetts.  The  Chief 
Magistrate  of  the  nation  sat  in  an  arm- 

o 

chair,  with  one  leg  over  the  elbow,  while 
the  emissary  of  Massachusetts  presented 
the  parchment  with  a  little  speech.  The 
President  took  the  document,  slowly  un 
rolled  it,  and  remarked  in  a  quaint  way, 
"  Well,  it  is  n't  long  enough  to  scare  a  fel 
low  " !  It  is  not  remarkable  that  the  Mas 
sachusetts  official  said  as  he  left  the  room, 
"  That  is  certainly  an  extraordinary  person 
to  be  President  of  the  United  States!  " 

After  Governor  Andrew  had  renewed  his 
practice  at  the  bar,  he  was  retained  as 
counsel  for  upwards  of  thirty  thousand 
petitioners  for  the  enactment  of  a  judicious 
license  law.  In  his  famous  argument  be 
fore  the  committee,  he  only  expressed  the 
honest  convictions  he  had  entertained  for 
years.  He  used  wine  himself,  and  most 
heartily  despised  the  prevailing  hypocrisy 
as  to  its  use  by  others.  As  Governor,  he 
would  have  brought  the  subject  of  a  license 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  115 

law  before  the  Legislature,  and  urged  some 
practical  legislation  in  opposition  to  the 
principle  of  absolute  prohibition,  but  for 
a  fear  that  it  might  be  the  occasion  of 
divided  counsels  in  regard  to  the  great  and 
absorbing  subject  of  the  war.  He  did 
not  hesitate  to  utter  his  views  with  entire 
distinctness  in  private,  and  nothing  gave 
him  greater  satisfaction  than  his  efforts 
before  the  committee  of  the  Legislature, 
where  he  appeared  as  counsel. 

He  knew  that  this  course  would  sub 
ject  him  to  reproach ;  but  probably  he 
never  did  suppose  men  would  go  to  the 
length  of  charging  him  with  being  himself 
an  intemperate  person,  —  as  foul  a  slander 
as  was  ever  uttered  about  a  public  charac 
ter.  He  knew  too  well,  from  his  inter 
course  with  the  poor  and  the  unfortunate, 
the  enormous  evils  of  intemperance,  to  ad 
vocate  any  legislation  which  he  supposed 
would  tend  to  its  increase  ;  and  in  his  own 
case  he  had  that  absolute  self-control  which 
rendered  him  safe  from  this  and  similar 


Il6  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

temptations.  He  had  profound  respect  for 
all  who  abstained  absolutely  from  the  use 
of  wine,  either  on  their  own  account  or  for 
example  to  others ;  but  he  demanded  equal 
respect  for  his  own  discretion,  and  no  per 
sonal  considerations  could  restrain  him 
from  a  full  and  free  expression  of  his  opin 
ions. 

The  first  time  he  ever  spoke  in  public 
was  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  and  on  the 
subject  of  temperance.  The  circumstances 
were  peculiar,  and  are  well  described  by 
his  brother  Isaac  in  a  letter  to  a  friend. 
It  is  worth  copying  here:  — 

"  It  has  often  been  alluded  to  in  print,  but  the 
particulars  have  never  been  correctly  given  ;  at 
least  in  no  account  that  I  have  ever  seen.  Believ 
ing  that  you  will  be  glad  to  know  the  circum 
stances  connected  with  that  address,  I  will  relate 
them.  When  we  resided  in  Windham,  Maine,  at 
our  old  birthplace,  there  was  a  temperance  soci 
ety  organized.  Whether  Albion's  name  was  upon 
the  roll  or  not  I  do  not  now  remember.  Perhaps 
not,  as  he  was  at  that  time  a  mere  boy.  The 
president  of  the  society  was  a  very  worthy  Free- 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES.  1 1  / 

will  Baptist  clergyman  by  the  name  of  Shaw. 
One  of  the  most  prominent  men  in  the  society 
was  Mr.  Josiah  Little,  a  neighbor  of  ours,  and  a 
nephew  to  Dr.  Timothy  Little,  the  celebrated  sur 
geon  of  Portland  at  that  time. 

"  Previous  to  holding  one  of  their  meetings, 
which  was  appointed  for  a  Sabbath  afternoon,  the 
officers  of  the  society  and  some  others  wanted  to 
get  my  brother  to  make  some  remarks  in  the 
meeting.  Though  he  was  at  this  time,  as  I  have 
already  said,  but  a  boy,  and  one  whom  they  had 
all  known  from  his  birth,  they  had  such  confi 
dence  in  his  abilities  that  they  felt  satisfied  he 
could  speak  to  the  purpose  if  called  upon  to  try. 
Having  obtained  father's  consent,  Mr.  Little 
spoke  to  Albion  about  it.  Having  learned  that 
his  father  was  willing,  Albion  readily  agreed  to 
accede  to  their  wishes.  It  was  a  pleasant  after 
noon  when  the  meeting  was  held,  and  there  was 
a  full  attendance.  The  people  were  much  inter 
ested  in  the  temperance  cause,  and  the  house 
was  well  filled.  The  place  of  meeting  was  the 
Free  Meeting  House,  as  it  was  called.  This 
house  was  not  far  from  Horsebeef  Falls  on  the 
Windham  side  of  the  river,  and  less  than  a  mile 
from  my  father's.  Albion  took  his  seat  with  the 
audience  near  the  rear  of  the  house,  and  a  little 
to  the  speaker's  right.  After  the  president  of 
the  society  had  delivered  his  address  and  some 


118  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW, 

others  had  spoken  upon  the  subject,  Albion  was 
called  upon  to  make  some  remarks.  I  well  re 
member  the  time,  place  and  scene.  Occupying 
a  seat  close  behind  him,  I  had  a  good  chance  to 
hear  as  well  as  watch  him.  He  rose  to  his  feet 
cool,  calm  and  collected,  with  the  dignity  of  a 
man  and  the  modesty  of  a  child,  and  began. 
Commencing  with  the  child  who  is  early  taught 
to  partake  of  alcoholic  drinks,  and  following  him 
along  his  downward  career,  he  pictured  his 
wretched  end.  In  contrast  to  this  was  shown  the 
onward  and  upward  life  of  those  who  early  re 
solved  upon  a  life  of  temperance  ;  and  to  illus 
trate  this  point  he  directed  his  hearers  to  look 
upon  some  eminent  men  whose  names  he  gave 
them. 

"  The  company  was  held  almost  spell-bound. 
Such  an  address  from  a  mere  child.  Elder  Shaw 
afterwards  said  to  my  father:  'Albion  beat  us 
all.1  It  was  good.  Had  this  speech  come  from 
some  mature  man,  it  would  have  been  highly 
creditable  to  him  :  how  much  more  to  a  boy  of 
about  fourteen  years  of  age  !  Though  forty  years 
have  passed  away  since  that  occurrence,  I  can  dis 
tinctly  see  in  my  mind's  eye  that  short,  fat,  chub 
by,  curly-headed  little  fellow,  as  he  stood  in  the 
old  meeting-house,  and  with  such  earnestness  and 
eloquence,  gesticulating  with  his  right  arm,  advo 
cated  the  cause  of  temperance  and  besought  the 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  119 

young  as  well  as  the  old  to  beware  of  strong 
drink.  That  meeting-house  is  gone.  The  officers 
of  the  old  temperance  society  have  long  since 
passed  away.  Worthy  men  they  were,  and  worthy 
of  being  held  in  grateful  remembrance  ;  and  they 
as  well  as  all  who  heard  him,  remembered  with 
love  and  respect  the  youthful  orator,  who  gave 
his  first  public  address  on  that  beautiful  Sabbath 
afternoon. 

"  You,  who  knew  him  so  well,  know  that  the 
expectations  in  regard  to  him,  raised  so  early, 
were  not  disappointed,  except  by  his  premature 
death." 

Perhaps  the  two  most  notable  things 
about  Governor  Andrew  were  his  religious 
fervor  and  his  mirthfulness.  He  was  gen 
erally  familiar  with  the  Bible  and  studied 
portions  of  it  very  carefully.  The  hymns 
of  Dr.  Watts  he  seemed  to  know  by  heart. 
In  the  early  days  in  Boston,  nothing  gave 
him  greater  satisfaction  than  the  Bible  in 
structions  of  James  Freeman  Clarke.  He 
was  especially  interested  in  the  epistles  of 
Paul,  and  used  frequently  to  enlarge,  at  my 
house,  upon  the  teachings  of  his  pastor  at 
the  vestry.  His  faith  was  deep  and  ear- 


I2O  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

nest,  without  a  touch  of  cant,  for  he  spoke 
on  religious  subjects  with  the  same  ease 
and  freedom  that  he  did  on  any  others,  and 
never  indulged  in  a  didactic  strain. 

One  time  late  in  the  night,  as  we  were 
returning  in  a  carriage  from  a  country  cau 
cus,  where  we  had  made  speeches,  a  dis 
cussion  arose  on  the  subject  of  prayer.  He 
spoke  emphatically  of  the  childlike  simpli 
city  of  the  early  Christians  in  asking  and 
expecting  certain  specific  results  from  sup 
plication  to  God.  He  alluded  to  the  great 
comfort  it  was  to  him  to  lay  out  the  whole 
case,  in  the  full  belief  that  it  would  be  in 
some  way  effective.  "  I  want,"  he  said,  "  to 
tell  the  story  in  my  own  way,  although  I 
know  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  give  any  in 
formation  to  the  Almighty." 

At  the  bar  meeting  after  his  death, 
George  S.  Hillard,  a  political  opponent  but 
life-long  friend,  declared  that  he  "  never 
knew  a  man  whose  daily  life  and  conversa 
tion  embodied  the  teachings  of  the  Saviour 
as  laid  down  in  Holy  Writ  more  than  his. 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  121 

He  never  knew  a  man  who  left  this  world 
with  less  of  the  stain  of  sin  than  he."  Rich 
ard  H.  Dana  at  the  same  meeting  said : 
"  He  could  not  be  deflected  from  the  course 
of  duty  by  any  of  the  temptations  which 
address  themselves  to  the  weaknesses  of 
public  men.  His  morality  was  not  a  graft 
of  later  years  upon  an  ordinary  stock;  it 
was  not  sweet  water  gathered  into  a  vase, 
nor  the  accumulations  of  a  large  reservoir ; 
but  it  was  a  fountain  of  living  water,  spring 
ing  up  from  the  depths  of  his  nature.  The 
foundations  of  his  character  were  laid  deep 
and  strong." 

His  pastor,  Mr.  Clarke,  has  frequently 
given  public  testimony  to  the  religious 
character  of  his  parishioner  and  to  the  value 
of  his  services  in  the  church.  His  heart 
was  in  this  thing.  He  gave  more  time  and 
devotion  in  this  direction  than  will  ever  be 
known  in  this  world;  for  many  of  his  works 
were  as  quiet  and  unostentatious  as  they 
were  earnest  and  effective.  Numerous  in 
stances  might  be  mentioned  of  the  depth 


122  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

of  his  interest  in  a  religious  life.  Here  is 
one  that  has  a  touch  of  the  romantic. 

On  the  last  day  of  the  year,  the  Gov 
ernor  was  once  hard  at  work  in  the  State 
House  till  near  midnight.  No  one  else 
but  the  messenger  was  in  the  building; 
without  was  a  driving  storm.  The  Gov 
ernor  suddenly  dropped  his  pen,  looked  at 
his  watch  and  said,  "  It  is  twenty-five  min 
utes  to  twelve.  Do  you  know  that  at  this 
time,  down  at  Father  Taylor's  church,  they 
are  praying  out  the  year  ?  Now  if  you  can 
get  a  conveyance  in  time,  you  and  I  will 
go  down  and  help  them."  They  got  down 
in  time.  Father  Taylor  clapped  his  hands, 
and  gave  other  expressions  of  his  gladness 
at  the  Governor's  visit;  and  the  speech 
which  Andrew  made  to  the  audience. hud 
dled  into  that  little  church,  from  the  de 
scription  of  a  person  who  was  present,  was 
one  of  the  most  moving,  pathetic  and  elo 
quent  he  ever  made  in  his  life. 

Of  his  disposition,  Colonel  Browne  truly 
says,  it  was  more  than  cheerful :  it  was 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  123 

merry.  He  had  many  and  severe  trials,  — 
much  to  weigh  upon  his  spirits  ;  but,  even  in 
the  saddest  moods  and  sometimes  when  in 
physical  pain  and  suffering,  a  humorous 
remark  or  a  good  story  affected  him  pleas 
antly  at  once,  his  countenance  would  lighten 
up,  and  he  would  seldom  fail  to  do  his  share 
in  repartee  or  kindred  anecdote.  There 
seemed  to  be  no  end  to  the  stories  he  could 
tell.  He  enjoyed  them  himself  and  his  loud 
ringing  laugh  was  really  inspiring.1 

1  One  night  at  the  theatre,  many  years  ago,  his  laugh 
ter  at  the  acting  of  Collins,  the  Irish  comedian,  was  so 
uproarious  as  to  attract  general  attention.  The  construc 
tion  put  by  sombre  critics  on  the  famous  line, 

"  And  the  loud  laugh  that  speaks  the  vacant  mind," 

that  loud  laughter  is  a  trait  of  inane  or  empty  minds  is 
exploded.  A  mind  free  from  care  is  what  the  poet  meant 
in  the  opinion  of  a  great  English  humorist  and  sound 
critic  ;  although  it  must  be  admitted  that  laughter  and 
bright  smiles  and  even  humorous  sallies  may  sometimes 
conceal  a  sadness  which  lies  deep  in  the  heart,  a  fact  that 
has  not  escaped  the  attention  of  a  minor  poet :  — 

"  I  often  smile  to  hide  the  tear  I  shed ; 
As  when  the  jester's  bosom  swells, 
And  mournfully  he  shakes  his  head, 
We  hear  the  jingling  of  his  bells." 


124  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

He  was  a  mimic  of  considerable  power, 
and,  having  a  retentive  memory,  could 
repeat  whole  passages  from  the  arguments 
of  lawyers  or  the  sermons  of  ministers  in 
the  precise  manner  of  the  speakers.  His 
occasional  imitations  of  characters  in  the 
remote  towns  of  Maine  were  very  droll.  It 
made  no  difference  where  he  was  or  who 
was  present,  he  would  work  himself  into  an 
excitement  that  startled  those  who  were  not 
familiar  with  his  style  in  this  regard. 

In  this  matter  he  acted  on  principle,  as 
well  as  in  obedience  to  the  impulses  of  his 
nature.  He  never  omitted  on  suitable  oc 
casions  an  effort  to  inspire  others  with  his 
own  sunny  and  hopeful  views  of  life  and 
duty.  Some  of  the  main  causes  which 
combined  to  increase  the  perils  of  New- 
Englanders  from  drunkenness  he  declared, 
on  a  public  occasion,  to  be  a  "  hard  climate, 
much  exposure,  few  amusements,  a  sense  of 
care  and  responsibility  cultivated  intensely, 
and  the  prevalence  of  ascetic  and  gloomy 
theories  of  life,  duty  and  Providence." 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES.  125 

Solemn  citizens,  who  did  not  quite  ap 
prove  of  such  fun  in  the  Governor  of  the 
Commonwealth,  would  look  very  grave. 
Sometimes  their  astonishment  was  the 
most  amusing  thing  of  all,  reminding  one 
of  the  declaration  of  a  good  man  who  was 
amazed  at  the  development  of  unexpected 
traits  in  a  neighbor :  "  We  are  fearfully  and 
wonderfully  mixed." 1 

It  must  not  be  inferred  that  he  was  frivo 
lous  or  vulgar  in  this  overflow  of  his  exu 
berant  spirits ;  ^till  less,  that  he  ever  used 
his  power  to  brmg  ridicule  or  contempt 

1  It  must  be  confessed,  too,  that  in  the  trials  and  em 
barrassments  of  those  days,  especially  in  regard  to  matters 
where  there  was  inefficiency  or  neglect  of  duty,  the  Gov 
ernor  would  occasionally  give  a  place  to  vigorous  exple 
tives  not  found  in  the  New  England  Primer.  But  the 
circumstances  were  always  such,  that  it  is  safe  to  say 
these  expressions  formed  no  part  of  the  Recording  Angel's 
page.  Indeed,  they  were  entirely  out  of  the  Governor's 
line  ;  but,  when  resorted  to,  they  were  chosen  and  applied 
with  the  skill  of  a  veteran,  and  were  used  with  such  fervor, 
and  fitted  so  well,  that,  as  Longfellow  says  of  Miles  Stan- 
dish  :- 

"  Sometimes  it  seemed  a  prayer,  and  sometimes  it  sounded 
like  swearing." 


126  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

upon  others.  Although  often  ready  to  ex 
claim, 

"  Mirth,  admit  me  of  thy  crew," 

no  man  was  more  mindful  of  the  feelings 
of  others,  or  a  greater  stickler  for  the 
proprieties  of  official  position  or  for  the 
respect  due  to  sacred  things.  One  who 
knew  him  well,  in  view  of  his  many-sided 
character,  declared  that  he  was  a  delight 
ful  combination  of  Jupiter  and  Pick 
wick  !  The  cloud-compelling  Jove  !  —  yes. 
But  Pickwick  ?  —  The  gentle  cockney  had 
no  sense  of  humor  ! 

It  is  stated  elsewhere  in  this  volume, 
that  the  home  of  Governor  Andrew's  father 
was  the  usual  resort  of  ministers  when 
visiting  or  journeying  through  the  town. 
These  men  were  not  only  the  best  edu 
cated  people  of  the  day  in  that  region, 
but  were,  as  a  rule,  remarkably  cheerful. 
Generally  settled  for  life  and  thus  assured 
of  their  support,  they  had  a  cheerful  bear 
ing  and  a  practical  sense  of  humor  which 
was  often  in  remarkable  contrast  with  the 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES.  I2/ 

doctrines  they  taught  in  the  pulpit :  they 
held  a  position  and  had  an  influence  which 
can  scarcely  be  appreciated  at  this  day. 

Always  welcome  guests,  tradition  says  it 
was  good  to  see  them  —  especially  when 
there  were  several  together  —  before  the 
huge  blazing  fire  in  the  best  room  of  a 
farmer's  house,  where  a  mug  of  flip  or  a 
glass  of  something  that  had  made  a  voy 
age  from  the  West  Indies,  and  cider  ad 
libitum,  were  not  at  all  out  of  the  way,  and 
perhaps  contributed  somewhat  to  the  quiet 
mirth  of  the  evening.1 

From  early  association  with  men  like 
these,  Andrew  got  something  of  his  hu 
mor,  many  of  his  clerical  anecdotes,  and  a 
portion  of  his  familiarity  with  the  Bible  and 

1  They  were  all  politicians,  free  and  outspoken,  and 
generally  in  the  time  of  the  embargo  and  war,  Federalists. 
On  one  occasion,  when  General  Fessenden,  father  of  the 
senator  and  a  leader  of  the  party,  delivered  a  Fourth  of 
July  oration  in  New  Gloucester,  Parson  Moseley  read  with 
an  unction  which  showed  whom  he  alluded  to,  the  hymn 
commencing :  — 

"  Break  out  their  teeth,  Almighty  God ! 
Those  teeth  of  lions  dyed  in  blood  !  " 


128  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

the  hymn-book ;  nor  could  one  of  his 
observing  character  fail  to  be  interested  in 
the  earnest  piety,  sincere  devotion  to  duty, 
and  manly  bearing  of  these  servants  of 
God. 

His  mirthfulness  was  increased  by  con 
tact  with  the  people.  In  no  part  of  the 
world  is  there  a  keener  sense  of  humor 
than  among  the  rural  population  of  Maine. 
Before  the  temperance  reform,  this  was 
more  marked  than  at  the  present  time ; 
owing  to  the  fact,  in  part,  that  there  are 
fewer  occasions  for  its  exercise.  The 
country  store  is  no  longer  a  place  where 
the  people  congregate  of  an  evening  and 
take  a  social  glass.  The  village  inns  have 
almost  disappeared ;  and  the  workmen  do 
not  now  "  knock  off  "  at  eleven  o'clock  in 
the  forenoon  and  at  four  in  the  afternoon 
for  a  glass  of  grog  and  a  pipe. 

He  must  be  a  bold  man  who  should 
express  a  wish  for  the  return  of  those 
old  times,  with  all  the  attendant  evils  of 
drunkenness,  poverty  and  crime.  The  far- 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES.  12Q 

mers  of  to-day  are  prosperous:  some  of 
them  are  rich.  They  toil  and  moil.  They 
sow  and  reap  and  gather  into  barns,  and 
are  eminently  respectable.  But  still  the 
fact  remains,  that  the  rural  population  are 
by  far  less  cheerful  than  they  were  in 
the  days  referred  to.  The  love  of  fun  is 
in  them  ;  and  the  young  men,  who  find 
little  on  the  farms  to  satisfy  this  affection, 
are  discontented  and  seek  the  cities,  where 
there  are  harmless  amusements  they  can 
not  find  at  home,  and  a  freedom  denied 
them  in  the  country  towns.  The  farms 
are  deserted  by  youth  to  an  extent  that  is 
almost  appalling,  and  the  next  generation 
will  find  many  of  them  lying  waste  or  occu 
pied  by  a  foreign  population. 

Whoever  strives  to  correct  this  gloomy 
tendency  of  the  people  is  building  better 
than  he  knows,  and  doing  more  for  society 
than  those  can  appreciate  who  think  the 
chief  end  of  man  is  to  "  live  like  a  hermit 
and  work  like  a  horse,"  in  order  to  gain 
riches  or  fame  or  power,  and  transmit  to 

9 


130  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

posterity  a  name  which  is  covered  with  the 
odor  of  respectability  and  nothing  more. 

Governor  Andrew  did  his  full  share  to 
counteract  this  tendency  to  gloom  and 
despair.  His  daily  life  was  a  plea  for  cheer 
fulness.  Always  in  sympathy  with  the 
misfortunes  of  others  ;  always  ready  to  as 
sist  the  poor,  the  sick,  and  even  the  guilty, 
he  had  no  respect  for  morbid  sorrows,  and 
no  patience  with  doctrines  that  called  for 
vengeance  rather  than  pity  for  the  wicked. 

Mirthfulness  is  often  a  marked  trait  in 
large  natures,  and  is  a  wonderful  aid  to  those 
who  are  oppressed  with  care  and  anxiety, 
or  whose  daily  avocations  impose  a  heavy 
and  constant  strain  on  the  mental  powers. 
Nor  is  it  inconsistent  with  dignity  of  char 
acter,  or  even  with  a  certain  austerity 
shown  by  those  in  official  stations  when 
thoroughly  in  earnest.  One  of  the  greatest 
magistrates  who  ever  sat  on  the  bench 
was  occasionally  so  harsh  in  manner  as  to 
astonish  as  well  as  exasperate  the  bar,  and, 
after  metaphorically  cuffing  everybody  he 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  131 

could  reach,  would  go  home  —  so  the  tra 
dition  goes  —  and  romp  with  the  children, 
playing  "tag,"  or  "catch  as  catch  can,"  and 
dancing  "  till  the  gunpowder  ran  out  of 
the  heels  of  his  boots."1 

The  anecdote  is  quite  familiar  of  a  fa 
mous  theologian  who  was  rolling  on  the  floor 
with  his  grandchildren,  and  seeing  through 
the  window  that  a  brother  of  the  cloth  was 
approaching  the  house,  exclaimed :  "  Stop  ! 
there  's  a  fool  coming." 

Those  who  attended  the  <£.  B.  K.  din 
ners  at  Cambridge  forty  years  ago,  when 
reporters  were  rigidly  excluded,  know  very 
well  how  men  of  real  distinction  can  play 
when  they  set  out  for  a  good  time.  The 

1  Those  members  of  the  bar  who  never  saw  the  late 
Chief  Justice  Shaw,  except  in  his  regimentals  and  on  the 
war  path,  may  find  it  difficult  to  believe  that  at  the  bar- 
dinner  given  in  honor  of  his  appointment,  about  half  a 
century  ago,  he  sang  the  fine  old  melody  of  the  "  Unfor 
tunate  Miss  Bailey."  Still  more  difficult  may  be  the  belief, 
that,  from  diffidence  or  some  error  in  the  pitch,  he  fairly 
broke  down  !  After  the  festivities  had  proceeded  some 
time,  he  rose  and  said,  "  Mr.  President,  I  move  for  a  re 
hearing  in  re  Bailey"  which  was  granted  amidst  great 
applause. 


132  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.    ANDREW. 

loud,  hilarious  laughter  of  Judge  Story,  the 
classical  hits  of  Everett,  the  keen  edge 
of  Judge  Sprague's  blade,  the  pithy  points 
of  Professor  Parsons,  the  broad  humor  of 
Judge  Warren,  and  the  saturnine  wit  of 
Simon  Greenleaf,1  are  things  to  be  remem 
bered.  It  was  Home  Tooke  who  declared 
that  a  "keen  perception  of  the  ludicrous  is 
one  of  the  greatest  blessings  of  life."  Gov 
ernor  Andrew  found  it  so,  and  the  love  of 
fun  was  a  family  trait. 

It  is  something  like  thirty-five  years  since 
I  was  at  the  old  Andrew  homestead  in  Box- 
ford.  They  had  organized  a  lyceum  in  the 
village,  and  Andrew  was  to  deliver  the 

1  When  omnibuses  were  the  only  public  conveyances 
between  Cambridge  and  Boston,  there  was  an  old  and  big 
driver  named  Morse,  whom  everybody  knew.  At  one  of 
the  4>.  B.  K.  dinners,  Governor  Kent  of  Maine  was  speak 
ing  of  his  gratification  in  coming  back  to  the  college,  and 
especially  that  he  found  Morse  still  on  top  of  his  omnibus. 
Professor  Greenleaf  immediately  cried  out,  "  Mors  est  com- 
munis  omnibus."  Judge  Story  sprung  to  his  feet  and  de 
clared  it  the  best  impromptu  thing  he  had  ever  heard  at 
that  table.  But  there  was  a  report  current  among  the 
outside  barbarians  that  the  Judge  and  Mr.  Everett  used 
to  rehearse  for  these  occasions. 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  133 

opening  lecture.  It  was  an  event  in  the 
town.  The  whole  family  with  invited 
guests  proceeded  to  the  fearfully  heated 
school-house,  which  was  filled  by  an  ex 
pectant  crowd. 

After  a  considerable  delay,  the  presid 
ing  genius,  whose  mental  and  physical 
joints  seemed  never  to  have  been  unlim- 
bered,  arose,  and  with  patronizing  sternness 
addressed  the  orator  of  the  evening  thus  : 
"  You  may  now  begin'"  This  was  the 
whole  introduction ;  and  he  did  begin, 
while  a  broad  smile  illuminated  his  face  at 
the  sudden  and  remarkable  manner  in 
which  he  was  precipitated  upon  the  au 
dience.  After  lecture,  we  drove  home  in 
the  cold  and  bracing  air,  about  as  full  of 
fun  as  mortals  can  be,  and  there  spent  an 
evening  not  easy  to  be  forgotten.  There 
was  cider,  the  inevitable  doughnuts,  and  all 
the  Yankee  "  fixings,"  with  a  blazing  fire 
that  it  is  good  to  think  about.  What  a 
time  it  was !  What  shouts  of  laughter  at 
our  own  jokes  !  How  we  egged  each  other 


134  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

on  for  "  more ; "  while  Deacon  Jonathan 
Andrew  sat  in  the  chimney-corner  by  him 
self,  with  his  hand  over  his  face,  but  the 
latter  all  aglow  with  the  mirth  he  tried  to 
conceal. 

And  the  stories  !  I  am  not  on  oath,  and 
may  be  mistaken  as  to  which  of  them  were 
told  then  and  there.  After  passing  the 
grand  climacteric,  these  reminiscences  of 
story-telling  get  slightly  "  mixed."  It  is 
almost  a  privilege  of  old  age  to  repeat  an 
anecdote  —  if  it  be  a  good  one  —  to  the 
same  auditors,  and  none  but  an  inconsider 
ate  person  will  make  known  the  fact,  pro 
vided  always  that  the  narrator  is  of  fair 
repute,  and  his  tale  is  not  very  long,  and 
is  reasonably  good.  Nor  is  it  quite  fair 
for  the  young  and  handsome  to  remark  of 
a  story  under  such  circumstances,  that  it 
was  in  the  American  Almanac  forty  years 
ago,  or  is  as  old  as  Faneuil  Hall.  Still 
less,  to  spoil  the  effect  by  alluding  to  a 
difference  in  the  statement  of  facts  in  the 
present  narration  and  one  formerly  made; 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES.  135 

as,  for  instance,  in  calling  the  horse  red 
now  and  formerly  black.  The  precise  color 
is  not  usually  material. 

One  of  the  stories  referred  to  I  am  sure 
of;  for  it  was  in  the  lecture,  and  related  to 
good  Parson  Eaton,  formerly  of  that  parish. 
One  of  his  church  attributed  his  rare 
popularity  to  the  fact  that  he  never  said 
anything  in  the  pulpit  about  politics  or 
religion  !  Then  there  was  an  account  of 
the  little  girl  who  undertook  to  climb  a 
high  fence  and  fell.  She  was  caught  by 
her  clothing  until  help  came  and  she  was 
rescued  from  her  perilous  condition.  In 
speaking  of  her  escape  to  a  bachelor 
friend,  the  child  concluded :  "  I  should 
certainly  have  lost  my  life  but  for  Provi 
dence,  —  and  my  drawers  "  ! 

Then  there  was  the  conversation  be 
tween  two  little  Sunday-school  scholars : 
"  There  are  two  things,"  said  one,  "  which 
I  despise,  —  one  is  Sunday  ;  the  other  is 
death."  Here  was  an  illustration  of  the 
possible  value  of  a  warm  temper  under 


I36  MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

peculiar  circumstances.  Parson  Miltimore 
was  "  gifted  in  prayer,"  and  was  always  re 
lied  upon  to  open  county  conferences  and 
so  forth.  He  got  tired  of  it  at  length, 
and  formally  insisted  that  younger  men 
should  assume  this  duty.  At  the  next 
meeting  of  the  associated  churches,  he  was 
purposely  late.  They  waited  for  him,  and 
he  went  up  the  pulpit  stairs  at  a  somewhat 
accelerated  pace.  After  the  prayer  was 
over,  a  venerable  brother  remarked  to  him : 
"  Brother  Miltimore,  you  always  pray  well ; 
but  never,  I  think,  so  well  as  when  you  are 
a  little  mad  !  " 

So,  also,  Parson  Parrish  of  Byfield  was 
greatly  gifted  in  prayer.  One  remarkably 
pleasant  Sunday,  after  a  long  drought,  he 
prayed  long  and  earnestly  for  rain.  Soon 
after  the  services  were  ended,  it  began  to 
rain  to  the  great  inconvenience  of  the  good 
people,  who  had  brought  no  umbrellas. 
Two  farmers  were  hurrying  along  the  road, 
thoroughly  drenched,  when  one  of  them 
remarked  :  "  Well,  the  minister  certainly  is 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES.  137 

powerful  in  prayer."  "Yes," said  the  other 
testily,  —  shaking  the  rain  from  his  coat, 
"  but  he  lacks  judgment" 

Then  there  was  the  incipient  Governor's 
own  account  of  the  fugitive  slave,  whose 
Sunday-school  teacher  was  instructing  him 
in  Bible  history.  He  was  greatly  aston 
ished  at  the  story  of  Jonah  in  the  whale's 
belly,  but  admitted  that  if  it  was  in  the 
good  book  it  must  be  true.  But,  when 
told  the  next  Sunday  of  Daniel  in  the  lions' 
den,  he  declared  that  if  that  was  in  the 
same  Bible,  "  darned  if  he  believed  the  fish 
story  now ! " 

Then  there  was  the  fighting  parson, 
whom  one  of  his  parishioners  asked  to 
preach  from  Matthew  v.  39 :  "  Whosoever 
shall  smite  thee  on  thy  right  cheek  turn 
to  him  the  other  also."  "  Certainly,  he 
would  the  next  Sunday."  And  there  was 
a  great  crowd  to  hear  how  one  of  his 
temperament  would  treat  such  a  subject. 
After  giving  out  the  text,  he  said  the 
meaning  was  very  clear  and  the  doctrine 


138  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.  ANDREW. 

satisfactory.  "  If  a  man  smite  thee  on 
the  right  cheek,  it  may  have  been  a  mis 
take  ;  it  may  have  been  in  sudden  passion 
and  repented  of  at  once.  You  should 
bear  it  and  turn  to  him  the  other  cheek  in 
order  to  learn  what  his  intention  is.  But 

9 

if  he  smites  you  again,  let  him  have  it ; 
for  there  is  no  Scripture  against  that ! " 

All  this  may  be  regarded  by  some  as 
trifling,  but  to  the  sober-minded  and  sen 
sible,  anything  which  tends  to  illustrate 
the  characteristics  of  this  happy  New  Eng 
land  family,  and  the  influences  under  which 
Governor  Andrew  passed  his  early  youth, 
will  be  of  interest  in  forming  an  estimate 
of  his  character  and  career.  When  an 
elaborate  and  adequate  biography  of  this 
eminent  magistrate  is  written,  these  pecu 
liar  traits  must  have  their  place.1 

1  Of  Chief  Justice  Parsons,  —  who  was  denominated 
in  his  own  day  the  Giant  of  the  Law,  and  whom  Mr. 
Justice  Story  once  declared  to  be  "a  head  and  shoulders 
taller  than  any  other  man  in  the  State,"  —  his  son  and 
biographer  says  :  "  If  ever  any  man  loved  fun  and  frolic, 
he  did.  He  laughed  easily  and  heartily,  although  often 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES.  139 

His  life  was  not  an  eventful  one  up 
to  the  time  when  the  country  was  con 
vulsed  by  civil  war,  and  then  the  nation  as 
well  as  individuals  lived  an  age  in  a  few 
years.  In  this  grand  drama  he  was  a 
central  figure,  and  never  came  short  of 
public  expectation  in  whatever  position  he 
was  placed.  The  weaknesses  and  infirm 
ities  of  the  race  were  his,  but  when  the 
time  for  action  came,  they  disappeared  to 
as  great  an  extent  as  falls  to  the  lot  of  hu 
manity. 

He  was  really  a  great  man.  His  early 
negotiation  of  all  the  incongruous  elements 
of  Massachusetts  society  into  a  solid  and 
powerful  opposition  to  the  South,  so  that 

with  his  mouth  shut  and  silently;  he  loved  to  laugh  and 
to  make  others  laugh,  and  knew  how  to  do  it.  Nothing 
do  I  remember  better  than  the  hours  of  chat  and  laugh 
ter, —  the  very  many  such  hours,  —  the  gay  dinners,  the 
simple  but  festive  suppers,  which,  as  they  come  now  before 
my  recollection,  seem  to  me  full  of  unrestrained  frolic. 
The  fashion  in  that  day  was  more  tolerant  of  anecdote  and 
fun  of  all  kinds,  in  conversation  and  at  all  times,  than  it  is 
now.  Innumerable  are  the  stories  which  have  come  to 
me  of  my  father's  sayings  and  doings  in  the  way  of  jest, 
in  all  the  periods  of  his  life." 


I4-O  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

we  had  no  discord  at  home,  was  a  marvel 
lous  achievement.  So  was  his  courage 
marvellous  in  prohibiting  the  Federal  gov 
ernment  from  arbitrary  arrests  in  the 
Commonwealth  till  after  the  Habeas  Corpus 
Suspension  Act  was  passed.  So  was  the 
influence  marvellous  which  he  exerted  upon 
the  country  and  upon  the  authorities  at 
Washington,  in  clearly  showing  the  true 
nature  of  the  contest  in  which  we  were  en 
gaged,  and  in  securing  the  adoption  of  the 
measures  necessary  for  its  successful  ter 
mination  ;  so  was  the  sagacity  he  exhibited 
in  making  so  few  mistakes  in  the  thousands 
of  official  appointments  which  were  thrown 
upon  him  under  new  and  trying  circum 
stances  ;  so  was  the  magnanimity  dis 
played  in  his  valedictory  address,  consider 
ing  the  time  when  it  was  delivered. 

Mr.  Edwin  P.  Whipple,  who  was  early 
selected  as  the  most  competent  person  to 
write  the  biography  of  Governor  Andrew, 
and  who  to  this  end  examined  critically  his 
whole  private  and  official  correspondence, 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES.  141 

of  more  than  thirty  thousand  pages,  de 
clares  to  me  that  he  could  discover  noth 
ing  in  his  most  private  notes  which  was 
not  honorable.  "  Under  the  microscope 
nothing  could  be  detected  even  when  pas 
sions  were  raging  the  fiercest,  which  had 
the  least  taint  of  envy,  jealousy,  meanness, 
bigotry,  or  any  unworthy  feeling."  The 
general  impression  he  derived  from  look 
ing  over  the  whole  correspondence  was, 
that  Governor  Andrew  "  ranked  among 
the  purest,  the  most  generous,  the  most 
magnanimous,  the  most  unselfish  and  pa 
triotic  statesmen  of  the  world." 

At  the  same  time,  he  was  the  most  un 
conventional  of  men.  He  was  simple  in 
his  tastes,  natural  in  his  appearance  and 
conduct,  and  had  a  gentleness  and  a  youth 
ful  artlessness  of  character  united  with  a 
lion  heart  in  courage. 

"  His  armor  was  his  honest  thought, 
And  simple  truth  his  utmost  skill." 

He  passed  more  than  twenty  years  in  an 
arduous  profession,  and  never  earned  more 


I42  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

than  enough  for  the  decent  and  comforta 
ble  support  of  his  family.  He  devoted  his 
best  years  to  the  country,  and  lost  his  life 
in  her  service.  His  highest  ambition  was 
to  do  his  duty  in  simple  faith  and  honest 
endeavor.  Of  such  a  character  the  well- 
known  lines  of  Sir  Henry  Wotton  are  emi 
nently  applicable :  — 

"This  man  was  free  from  servile  bands 

Of  hope  to  rise,  or  fear  to  fall ; 
Lord  of  himself,  though  not  of  lands, 
And  having  nothing,  yet  had  all." 


BURIAL-PLACE    AND    MONUMENT,    HINGHAM.    MASS. 


ORATION 

DELIVERED    BEFORE   THE 

ATHENIAN    SOCIETY    OF    BOWDOIN 
COLLEGE. 

SEPTEMBER,  1844. 


ORATION. 


IT  has  fallen  to  me,  my  brethren  of  the 
Athenaean  Society,  to  utter  the  words  of 
welcome,  at  this  recurrence  of  our  annual 
festival. 

Our  Alma  Mater  has  opened  her  arms 
once  more,  and  enfolds  us  now  together 
again,  in  the  embrace  of  old  and  kindly 
recollections,  of  warm  and  hearty  greetings, 
of  young  friendships  matured  or  revived, 
of  manly  and  hopeful  and  generous  faith 
in  each  other  and  in  our  literary  home. 
Some  of  us  are  allowed  to  revisit  her  at 
each  return  of  our  college  thanksgiving ; 
some  of  us  only  meet  around  the  family 
board  at  longer  intervals,  to  find  the  nurs 
lings,  the  children  of  the  flock,  grown 
strong  and  stalwart  men  ;  to  perceive  the 


10 


146  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

lines  deepening  upon  the  countenances, 
and  the  locks  growing  thin  and  frosty  on 
the  brows  of  the  elders ;  to  witness  how 
care  and  time  and  labor,  how  the  toil  of 
life,  the  burdens  of  the  heart,  the  discipline 
of  worldly  conflict,  how  joy  and  sorrow, 
disappointment  and  success,  health  and 
disease,  a  quiet  or  a  troubled  spirit,  have 
each  left  their  traces  behind  them,  marked 
on  the  cheek,  in  the  expression  of  the  eye, 
moulded  into  the  frame,  visible  each  in  the 
port  and  bearing  of  the  man;  speaking 
each  in  the  very  tones  of  the  voice. 

But,  whether  seldom  or  frequent  may  be 
our  mutual  interviews,  their  great  purpose 
and  usefulness  must  be  forever  the  same. 
Aside  from  the  sympathies  and  finer  senti 
ments  of  the  heart,  which  may  and  should 
be  thus  strengthened  and  protected ;  be 
yond  the  awakening  of  emotions  of  min 
gled  sweetness  and  regret  —  far,  oh,  very 
far  beyond  the  revisitings  of  early  memo 
ries,  and  the  rekindling  of  early  associations, 
is  the  wisdom  that  they  may  teach  —  the 


ORATION.  147 

wisdom,  not  merely  nor  mainly  of  thoughts 
and  opinions  suggested  by  each  others' 
lips,  but  the  wisdom  of  compared  experi 
ence,  the  wisdom  born  of  the  reflections 
the  day  will  crowd  upon  us  —  the  wisdom, 
"  uttered  not,  yet  comprehended." 

I  know  not  what  the  introspection  of 
others  may  reveal  to  them.  I  doubt  not, 
however,  that,  with  all  the  variety  of  cir 
cumstance,  with  all  the  peculiarity  of  tem 
perament  and  character  to  be  found  among 
us  here,  there  are  certain  great,  leading,  and 
distinctive  impressions  that  belong  to  the 
experience  of  us  all.  I  speak  now,  rather 
to  my  own  cotemporaries,  to  the  scholars 
here  met  whose  minds  may  be  supposed  to 
have  the  most  sympathy  with  my  own,  and 
to  whom  I  may,  for  all  reasons,  with  the 
more  propriety,  speak.  There  must  be  a 
feeling,  a  conviction,  that  the  world  is  some 
what  different  from  the  dream  of  the  boy ; 
somewhat  more  real  in  its  exactions  ;  some 
what  less  so  in  its  rewards.  There  must 
be  some  plain  and  unrelenting  facts,  stand- 


148  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

ing  stiffly  before  the  gaze  of  every  one  that 
were  quite  unforeseen  the  morning  that  last 
saw  him  joining  the  muster  at  early  prayers 
in  the  chapel.  The  bell  that  broke  his  slum 
bers  and  destroyed  the  visions  of  his  sleep 
was  not  more  potent  to  dispel  the  sweet 
creations  of  an  untroubled  mind,  shut 
out  by  kind  forgetfulness  from  all  thought 
of  care,  than  the  "  bell  of  time,"  as  day  by 
day  it  has  been  sounding  out  the  hours,  has 
proved  its  power  to  awaken  the  mind  from 
its  repose  of  happy  and  confident  anticipa 
tion,  to  scatter  the  well-woven  plans  of 
hope,  speculating  blindfold,  yet  buoyant 
and  satisfied. 

He  has  learned  little  from  life  to  whom 
the  wrestling  of  a  half  dozen  years  against 
the  waves  of  that  great  and  turbulent  sea 
into  which  the  young  man  leaps  so  heartily, 
when  the  days  of  his  novitiate  are  over, 
has  not  brought  some  new  sense  of  duty, 
of  responsibility,  and  of  obligation  to  the 
time  he  lives  in,  the  people  among  whom 
he  dwells,  on  account  of  which  he  must  ask 


ORATION.  149 

for  no  compensation  now,  for  the  privilege 
of  fulfilling  which  he  must  even  give  some 
thing  himself.  He  has  found,  unless  his 
life  has  been  a  blank,  and  his  soul  has  ex 
isted  shut  in  from  all  communion  with 
the  instructing  testimonies  of  all  events, 
both  within  and  without  himself,  —  that  the 
mystery  of  life  can  find  no  solution;  that 
the  wants  of  his  nature  can  find  no  corre 
sponding  good,  that  its  struggles  are  the 
vain  toil  of  a  cheated  mind;  or  else,  he 
has  learned,  that  he  began  to  breathe  the 
air  of  Heaven,  and  grew  to  man's  estate, 
and  studied  books,  and  communed  with 
men  and  nature,  and  pored  over  wearisome 
volumes,  and  read  with  eager  eyes  the 
pleasant  ones,  —  that  he  recited  lessons, 
and  stood,  day  after  day,  chalk  in  hand,  by 
a  blackboard,  marched  solemnly  to  chapel, 
and  skipped  gladly  to  the  commons  ;  that 
he  lived  some  certain  years  in  a  college, 
and,  on  a  given  day,  received  a  puzzling 
parchment,  with  a  ribbon  and  seal,  from 
venerated  hands,  in  a  crowded  meeting- 


15°  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW, 

house,  with  divers  forms  and  ceremonies  ; 
that  he  has  been  styled  by  his  neighbors, 
Reverend,  or  Doctor,  or  Esquire  ;  that  he 
has  joined  in  the  open  and  anxious  compe 
tition  of  full  grown  men,  on  that  broad 
arena  of  strife,  where  the  earth  is  all  un 
bounded  before  him,  where  mankind  are 
his  classmates  and  his  competitors;  that, 
in  a  word,  he  is  born  and  lives,  as  one  actor 
in  a  great  and  mysterious  drama,  the  end 
of  which  is  unrevealed,  the  control  of  which 
he  holds  not,  the  scenes  of  which  are  hourly 
changing,  where  all  parts  are  assigned, 
where  none  may  justly  call  himself  stage- 
manager  or  star,  but  where  each  must  act 
his  part  as  he  learns  it  on  the  stage,  and 
forget  himself  in  the  character  he  plays. 

I  care  not  how  great  may  have  been  the 
success,  as  we  measure  it  in  the  street ;  I 
make  no  account  of  the  brilliant  rewards 
that  a  man  may  have  been  allowed  to  call 
his  own :  the  result  is  as  inevitable  as  the 
edict  of  death,  that  the  scholar,  perhaps 
more  than  most  men,  must  find  that  there 


ORATION.  151 

is  something  to  get  which  success  does  not 
give  him,  something  to  gain,  which  the 
rewards  of  wealth  and  eminence  do  not 
command.  The  secret  of  it  all  is  felt  by 
all  men ;  it  is  understood  and  appreciated 
by  a  few.  Some  facts  are  learned  ;  but  the 
great  doctrine  they  enfold  is  inoperative 
upon  the  heart.  We  see  it  in  the  listless- 
ness  and  discouraged  inactivity  of  one  who 
has  found  life  harder,  and  success  more 
difficult  than  he  dreamed  it  in  his  college 
visions.  We  see  it  in  the  unsatisfied  coun 
tenance  and  murmured  complaint  of 
another,  whose  march  has  been  triumph 
over  all  those  misfortunes  which  we  fear 
the  most,  into  whose  lap  plenty  has 
poured  the  contents  of  her  horn,  and  upon 
whose  brow  fame  has  bound  her  laurels. 
We  see  it  all  over  society,  in  the  pages  of 
unhopeful  books  and  newspapers;  in  the 
light  and  hard  habits  of  money-getting,  in 
that  notable  absence  of  hearty  enthusiasm 
that  makes  our  lives. 

I  do  not  speak  in  the  language  of  com- 


152  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

plaint.  I  look  upon  the  world  with  no  dis 
tempered  eye,  —  but  the  truth,  known  to 
us  all,  may  well  enough  be  confessed.  It 
is  worth  the  utterance,  for  it  points  to  some 
thing  which  is  no  misfortune  in  nature.  It 
is  the  witness  of  something  great,  lofty,  and 
elevating  in  duty,  in  capacity,  and  in  des 
tiny,  which,  when  perceived  and  grasped, 
shall  be  the  cure  of  what  is  wrong,  the 
creator  of  a  new  order  in  the  individual 
and  in  society. 

It  is  the  highest  office  of  scholarship 
to  observe  what  is,  and  to  inquire  what 
ought  to  be.  Whoso  has  any  other  phi 
losophy  has  not  read,  as  yet,  the  title-page 
of  that  mysterious  volume  the  Almighty 
has  placed  in  his  hands,  the  leaves  of  which 
are  turned  over,  whether  he  will  or  no,  be 
fore  his  face,  open  to  his  study,  inviting 
his  care.  And  in  the  few  suggestions  which 
I  shall  have  the  honor  now,  with  great  def 
erence  to  submit,  connected  mainly  with 
the  position  of  the  younger  class  of  our 
brethren,  touching  the  practical  aims  of 


ORATION.  153 

American    scholars,    I    shall    assume    its 
truth. 

What  is  the  existing  position  of  our 
young  men  as  they  embark  on  their  voyage 
for  life,  —  masters  of  themselves,  —  and 
what  should  it  be  ?  With  what  views  and 
purposes,  and  in  what  pursuit  do  they  com 
mence  and  prosecute  their  enterprise  ?  and 
what  exchange  do  they  propose  to  them 
selves  in  return  for  the  argosies  they  bear 
off  upon  the  seas  ?  If  I  were  to  give  a 
name  to  the  greatest  cause  of  evil  to  the 
individual,  and  of  inefficiency  to  his  influ 
ence  in  the  world,  for  all  good  and  noble 
things,  that  now  pervades  the  ranks  of 
American  scholars,  —  by  which  I  mean  all 
those  to  whom  courtesy  grants  the  title,  — 
I  should  call  it,  the  want  of  a  devoted  en 
thusiasm. 

The  character  of  later  times,  —  the  whole 
tone  of  the  thrifty  and  calculating  civiliza 
tion  of  the  nineteenth  century,  has  con 
tributed  not  a  little  to  divest  every  pursuit 
and  all  the  vocations  of  society  of  that/m? 


154  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

and  hearty  and  generous  self -forgetf illness, 
upon  which  the  birth  of  great  enterprises, 
and  the  accomplishment  of  mighty  and 
brilliant  deeds,  that  alone  give  to  the  world 
a  history,  depend  no  more  than  the  moral 
elevation  and  private  happiness  of  every 
individual  man.  We  labor  to  live,  and  we 
live  to  labor.  To  buy  and  to  sell ;  to  in 
crease  our  store  ;  to  swell  our  comforts  and 
to  enlarge  our  wealth,  is  the  nation's  strug 
gle  and  the  people's  toil.  Not  to  say,  that 
in  these  things,  even,  we  are  more  selfish 
than  our  grandfathers  ;  this  better  outward 
man ;  these  fairer  fields ;  these  palaces  of 
luxury,  and  these  frequent  dwellings  of 
competence  and  ease,  have  taught  forget- 
fulness  of  hard  and  rugged  days  when  men 
suffered  and  denied  themselves,  that  they 
might  earn  all  this  for  us.  We  are  in  ad 
vance  of  our  fathers  in  a  thousand  things. 
Nay,  the  world  has  grown  wiser,  and  better, 
too,  I  doubt  not,  in  every  step  of  its  pro 
cession, —  but  the  very  advantages  that  old 
experience  has  given  us ;  the  very  con- 


ORATION.  155 

quests  that  time  and  effort  have  made  for 
the  race  over  sin  and  folly,  have  brought 
with  them  new  necessities  and  fresh  perils 
for  society.  The  simple  and  inartificial 
relations  of  men  to  each  other,  have  given 
way  to  the  elaborate  and  more  involved 
connections  of  greater  wealth,  higher  in 
tellectual  culture,  and  an  advanced  social 
condition.  The  heart  and  the  life  of  the 
young  scholar  feels  this  want  of  enthusi 
asm,  as  an  element  of  social  life,  more  than 
he  knows,  infinitely  more  than  I  can  tell. 
His  aims  are  controlled  by  it,  his  profession 
is  selected  by  it,  his  mode  of  life  grows  up 
under  it,  and  his  influence,  —  his  influ 
ence,  —  that  which  is  at  once  his  wealth  and 
his  responsibility,  is  warped  and  enfeebled, 
and  but  too  frequently  perverted  by  it. 

We  hear  much  of  a  generous  spirit  of 
emulation,  but  we  hear  little  of  the  highest 
ambition.  It  is  everywhere  held  that  one 
should,  if  possible,  out-do  his  neighbor,  but 
how  little  do  we  feel  that  we  should  make 
the  most  of  ourselves.  Our  life  is  indi- 


156  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

vidual  self-interest  carried  out,  almost  to 
the  last  analysis.  And  though  we  can  pre 
sent  the  spectacle  of  a  wonderful  progress 
as  compared  to  the  days  when  myriads 
lived  for  the  glory  of  a  monarch,  when  the 
man  was  the  victim  of  the  State,  when  there 
were  no  citizens,  but  only  serfs  and  sol 
diers  ;  yet  these  conditions  had  their  rec 
ompense,  to  which  we  must  and  shall 
have  something  to  correspond,  without 
which  our  progress  is  only  outward  and 
superficial.  The  difference  is  a  great  one 
in  degree,  but  not  very  remarkable  or 
prominent  in  kind  between  the  barbarian 
who  gives  up  his  will  and  his  conscience 
to  a  despotic  leader,  and  follows,  in  blind 
submission,  the  standard  of  a  warrior  chief, 
and  risks  himself  upon  the  field  of  stricken 
battle,  to  gain  his  portion  in  the  spoils  of 
war;  and  the  free  citizen,  who  boasts  of 
his  right  of  suffrage,  and  the  independent 
tenure  of  his  lands,  but  thinks  it  right 
to  lie  down  before  an  unsanctified  public 
opinion,  for  the  sake  of  what,  by  such  good 


ORATION.  157 

policy,  he  may  make  out  of  the  unsuspi 
cious  and  the  feeble. 

The  subject  of  a  despotism,  in  a  dark 
age,  with  all  his  indifference  to  the  tender 
and  the  humane,  is  excited  and  stimulated 
to  no  insignificant  degree  of  manly  ardor, 
by  the  mere  sentiment  of  loyalty  —  one 
which  long  outlives  the  decays  of  time  and 
often  survives  the  structures  of  Reform. 
There  is  the  blind  enthusiasm,  too,  of  pa 
triotism,  that  leads  men  of  some  periods 
and  nations  to  cast  to  the  winds  fortune, 
life,  and  even  glory  itself,  for  the  sake  of 
their  country.  There  is  the  pride  of  the 
clan,  the  rivalship  of  states,  there  is  zeal 
for  some  form  of  religious  faith,  a  burning 
desire  to  witness  the  triumph  of  some 
thing,  to  which  the  heart  has  been  wedded, 
to  gain  which,  no  sacrifices  are  deemed  too 
costly.  How  the  spirit  leaps  within  us,  as 
we  read  the  stories  of  bravery  and  self- 
devotion,  which  have  created  the  fame  of 
heroes,  and  made  bad  enterprises  romantic, 
and  bad  men  respectable.  These  forms  of 


158  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

social  life  that  wheel  the  mass  around  some 
central  head,  whether  it  be  the  monarch, 
the  hero,  or  something  more  abstract ;  and 
those  states  of  society  in  which  personal 
prowess  and  defiance  of  personal  danger 
are  counted  high  among  the  virtues  of  a 
man,  in  training  them  to  live  and  act  zeal 
ously  for  something  entirely  apart  from 
private  acquisition,  —  build  up  an  element 
of  enthusiasm,  in  a  people's  character,  that 
fits  them  for  great  emergencies,  and  fur 
nishes  the  nation  with  an  invincible  spirit 
for  the  pursuit  of  any  good  the  people 
may  have  wisdom  enough  to  work  for ; 
while,  on  the  other  side,  the  elevation  in 
political  rights,  and  in  social  importance, 
of  all  the  classes  of  society,  while  it  does  no 
more  than  justice  to  the  individual,  does  as 
much,  in  one  view  of  the  matter,  to  refine 
upon  human  selfishness,  as  it  does  to  vin 
dicate  the  claims  of  the  subject  against  the 
encroachments  of  the  despot  or  the  state. 
In  just  so  far  as  this  progress  is  the  fruit 
of  generous  devotion  to  principles,  with  the 


ORATION.  159 

truth  and  beauty  of  which  we  have  become 
enamored,  in  just  so  far  do  we  escape  the 
evil :  but,  when  we  lose  sight  of  the  ideal, 
the  abstract;  when  we  fight  for  a  principle, 
only  for  its  application  to  ourselves, — in  just 
so  far  do  we  degrade  ourselves,  and  tend 
to  perpetuate  human  wrongs  under  altered 
forms  and  with  fresher  strength.  The 
tendency  to  elevate  the  individual  and  the 
tendency  to  extreme  utilitarianism,  as  they 
always  move  side  by  side  with  each  other, 
making  selfishness  in  every  man's  bosom  a 
kind  of  resulting  force  out  of  the  two,  are 
and  have  been,  during  the  nineteenth  cen 
tury,  acting  strongly  in  concert,  mould 
ing  and  controlling  its  civilization.  And 
though  the  rectifying  causes  are  also  at 
work,  it  is  only  too  plain  that  those  parts 
of  society  that  succeed  in  getting  the  most 
advantage  from  existing  institutions  are 
quite  too  careless  of  their  brethren,  and 
feel  all  too  much  their  own  individual  im 
portance  to  labor  any  farther  than  what  a 
good  worldly  policy  counsels,  for  the  final 


I6O  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

triumph  of  all  the  interests  of  humanity.  I 
admit  that  there  is  much  downright  love 
of  principle,  and  much  hearty  labor,  both 
here  and  abroad,  for  the  good  of  man ;  but 
the  idea  of  utility  is,  for  the  sake  of  utility 
itself,  too  much  at  the  bottom  of  it  all,  and 
reform  of  the  grosser  abuses  prevails  but 
little  faster  than  the  political  economists 
can  be  convinced  that  the  public  wealth 
will  be  increased  by  it  the  next  year ;  and 
the  craftsman,  the  tradesman,  the  mer 
chant,  and  the  speculator  can  feel  safe 
from  any  possible  danger  to  prices  or  de 
rangement  to  the  markets.  From  the 
man  that  digs  his  living  out  of  an  oyster- 
bed,  to  the  capitalist  who  lolls  from  ten 
o'clock  in  the  morning  till  dinner  time  in 
insurance  offices  and  at  directors'  boards, 
and  eats  his  dinner  till  sundown  and  di 
gests  it  when  he  can,  and  so  up  and  down, 
through  all  the  gradations  of  social  life 
between  the  two,  does  this  worshipping  of 
utility  prevail.  In  one  country  you  must 
do  nothing  which  will,  by  any  possibility, 


ORATION.  l6l 

disturb  the  three  estates  of  the  realm;  in 
another  you  must  hold  still,  lest  you  have 
the  royal  prerogative  ;  or,  if  no  other  evil 
can  be  feared,  then  he  must  be  quiet  lest 
he  frighten  the  royal  children ;  while,  here 
at  home,  we  have  to  dodge  where  we  can, 
in  order  to  preserve  the  influence  of  our 
political  party,  our  religious  denomination, 
or  to  prevent  the  shaking  of  some  outward 
institution  profanely  styled  an  ark  of  safety. 
The  safest  way  for  all  moralists  and  states 
men,  too,  is  to  imitate  the  sagacious  caution 
of  the  clergyman  of  whom  it  was  said  by 
his  deacon  that  he  was  the  pattern  of  min 
isters,  as  he  never  meddled  with  politics  or 
religion  in  the  pulpit. 

It  is  well  that  a  spirit  of  rugged  inde 
pendence  should  hold  its  unshaken  seat 
in  the  breast  of  every  freeman  ;  that  he 
should  look  out  well  that  none  should  rob 
him  of  his  bread,  or  of  his  chance  of  gain 
ing  it.  It  would  be  a  noble  thing  if  every 
man  would  refuse  to  vote  for  a  measure, 
until  convinced  by  facts  and  reasoning; 


1 62  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

but  it  would  be  infinitely  nobler  and  better 
if  he  would  always  vote,  accordingly,  when 
convinced  that  a  measure  is  right,  instead 
of  waiting  to  find  whether  it  will  be  popu 
lar  or  politic.  Some  things  must  be  taken 
for  granted :  they  must  be  believed  a  pri 
ori ;  and,  without  that,  you  destroy  all  the 
freshness  and  beauty  of  goodness,  and  all 
the  vitality  of  faith.  If  you  break  loose 
from  loyalty,  and  dethrone  your  king,  you 
must  fall  back  upon  patriotism,  and  act 
under  love  of  country,  as  your  ruling  senti 
ment  ;  if  you  outgrow  that,  and  value  your 
country  for  what  it  gives  you,  and  think  it 
hard  to  fight  her  battles  unless  you  eat  her 
bread,  then  you  must  take  a  step  higher 
than  patriotism,  unless  you  would  descend 
to  one  even  lower  than  loyalty,  and  must 
become  a  philanthropist ;  you  must  love 
your  neighbor  as  yourself,  and  find  a  neigh 
bor  wherever  you  find  a  man.  I  bring  no 
railing  accusation  against  this  era  when  I 
say  that  the  principle  of  loyalty  and  the 
sentiment  of  patriotism  as  mere  unreason- 


ORATION.  163 

ing  impulses  have  grown  less  and  less  ; 
while  the  wider  sentiment,  that  true  and 
more  noble  impulse  of  philanthropy,  has 
failed  to  approach  quite  so  fast  as  they 
have  receded.  Apply,  if  you  choose,  the 
test.  Will  a  man  do  and  suffer  as  much 
for  his  neighbor  as  the  subject  would  have 
done  for  his  liege  ?  Will  the  voice  of 
humanity  plead  as  effectually  in  our  hearts, 
as  would  our  country's  call,  even  in  these 
calculating  times  ?  Will  it  stir  them  up  to 
deeds  of  self-devotion,  and  make  us  glad  to 
live  or  count  it  glorious  to  die  to  vindicate 
the  wrongs  of  others  ? 

Say,  is  it  not  true  that,  as  you  hear  less 
and  less  of  the  trumpet's  music,  you  feel 
less  and  less  of  that  ardent,  impulsive,  and 
glowing  fervor  of  soul,  in  which  the  great 
and  brave  of  every  age  have  forgotten  fear, 
despised  self-interest,  and  abandoned  them 
selves  in  a  cause  ? 

Out  of  this  intense  individualism  grows 
a  narrow,  personal  ambition,  that  breeds 
much  of  the  failure  to  be  found  in  our 


164  MEMOIR   OF  JOHX  A.   ANDREW. 

learned  professions.  As  the  field  is  open 
to  all,  we  go,  each  alone,  into  the  conflict, 
and  we  fight,  each  man  for  himself.  The 
success  of  one  is  not  merged  in  the  success 
of  many, — in  the  triumph  of  any  particular 
banner:  he  has  no  standard  by  whose  fate 
his  own  is  to  be  determined ;  no  leader 
whose  waving  plume  is  his  own  bright  ori- 
flamme.  No  dread  of  common  danger,  no 
hope  of  united  glory,  link  our  hearts  to 
gether,  save  our  political  parties,  and  our 
religious  sects,  and  our  philanthropic  soci 
eties,  our  interest  in  which  forms,  after  all, 
but  a  mere  trifling  infusion  of  sentiment 
and  motive  compared  to  the  entire  compo 
sition  of  our  ruling  purposes :  we  live  and 
toil  and  die  alone.  If,  in  surveying  the 
ground  upon  which  our  energies  are  to  be 
expended,  we  see  no  bristling  array  of 
forces  standing,  in  regular  battle  order,  to 
meet  and  oppose  our  advance,  neither  do 
we  see  a  host  of  fellow-soldiers,  who  greet 
our  accession  to  their  ranks  with  wel 
come  cheers.  The  only  remedy,  and  it  is 


ORATION.  165 

one  which,  to  a  good  extent,  the  recupera 
tive  energies  of  the  race  are  constantly 
supplying  —  the  result  towards  which  the 
whole  course  of  Providence  is  pointing  — 
which  is  the  genius  of  the  Christian  relig 
ion,  is  the  modification  of  all  forms  of 
antagonism  and  combat,  and  the  substitu 
tion,  in  their  stead,  of  an  universal  union. 
In  that  result,  is  the  great  destiny  of  schol 
arship  to  be  realized,  and  towards  the  pro 
duction  of  it  must  genius  and  learning 
and  the  highest  gifts  of  human  culture  con 
tribute.  The  young  man  must  abandon 
the  mere  purpose  of  personal  distinction. 
If  he  lives  for  himself,  all  the  chances  are 
against  his  realizing  the  dreams  of  his  am 
bition  ;  if  he  prevails,  he  has  not  purchased 
contentment  and  peace,  though  he  has  ex 
pended  all  the  wealth  of  his  being. 

Do  not  imagine  me,  while  I  advocate  a 
spirit  of  enthusiasm,  to  commend  fanati 
cism;  while  I  would  fix  some  limits  to  indi 
vidual  self-concern,  to  strike  at  individual 
liberty  or  effort;  while  I  believe  in  some- 


1 66  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

thing  nobler  than  utility,  to  connive  at 
recklessness ;  while  I  would  check  self-con 
ceit,  to  neglect  wisdom.  I  would  have 
enthusiasm,  thoughtful  and  considerate ; 
I  would  have  philanthropy  begin  at  the 
individual,  as  the  centre  of  a  circle,  and 
radiate  outward  to  the  remotest  circumfer 
ence  of  humanity ;  and  I  would  have  devot- 
edness  to  the  highest  theories  practically 
applied ;  I  would  have  that  wisdom,  of 
which  it  was  said  by  the  son  of  Sirach, 
"  She  is  more  moving  than  any  motion  ; 
for  she  passeth,  and  goeth  through  all 
things,  by  reason  of  her  pureness.  For 
she  is  the  breath  of  the  power  of  God,  and 
a  pure  influence  flowing  from  the  glory  of 
the  Almighty ;  therefore,  can  no  defiled 
thing  fall  into  her.  For  she  is  the  bright 
ness  of  the  everlasting  light,  the  unspotted 
mirror  of  the  power  of  God,  and  the  image 
of  his  goodness.  And  being  but  one  she 
can  do  all  things,  and,  remaining  in  herself, 
she  maketh  all  things  new,  and  in  all  ages, 
entering  into  holy  souls,  she  maketh  them 
friends  of  God  and  prophets." 


ORATION,  167 

I  contend  for  those  motives  and  forms 
of  action,  which,  while  they  shall  never 
fetter  the  activity  of  the  higher  sentiments 
of  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  being,  shall 
do  no  wrong  to  what  we  call  common  sense 
and  practical  skill. 

The  genuine  man,  who  feels  the  worth 
of  life,  is  illustrated  somewhat  to  my  mind 
by  the  brave  and  gallant  general.  He  does 
not  march  out,  by  himself,  in  sheer  reck 
lessness  of  what  darts  and  rifle-balls  can 
do ;  he  does  not  stand,  for  the  sake  of  prov 
ing  his  temerity,  upon  an  open  eminence, 
and  challenge  all  the  marksmen  of  the  foe 
to  hit  him,  if  they  can;  but  when  the  hordes 
of  Xerxes  are  pouring  down  for  conquest, 
and  some  one  must  command  the  pass  at 
Thermopylae,  there  he  goes,  and  there  he 
stands,  in  spite  of  every  peril,  the  leader  of 
the  forlornest  hope. 

Such  have  always  been  the  philosophers, 
the  reformers,  the  teachers,  the  heroes  of 
the  race.  Socrates  had  no  ambition  to  die 
by  hemlock ;  but  rather  than  embrace  the 


1 68  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

casuistry  of  the  Sophists,  —  rather  than 
abandon  his  teachings,  or  compromise  the 
virtues  of  his  character,  —  he  drained  the 
poison,  and  closed  his  eyes  forever.  Lu 
ther  was  not  in  love  with  the  rigors  of 
collision  with  the  tremendous  power  of 
Rome ;  but  as  his  awakened  spirit  led  him 
through  storm  and  trial,  on  his  road  to  the 
fulfilment  of  Truth  and  Duty,  he  cast  aside 
all  fear  of  man  and  defied  the  Vatican. 

"  Half-battles  were  the  words  he  said, 

Each  born  of  prayer,  baptized  in  tears, 
And  routed  by  him,  backward  fled 
The  errors  of  a  thousand  years." 

So,  too,  Lafayette,  that  bright  example  of 
the  most  generous  and  hearty  and  glorious 
enthusiasm  in  modern  political  history  ; 
think  you  that  the  gifts  of  fortune,  rank, 
and  domestic  bliss,  which,  all  combined, 
lacked  the  power  to  chain  him  to  the  soil 
of  France,  while  the  voice  was  echoing  in 
his  ears,  —  think  you  that  all  these  had  no 
charm  for  him  ?  But,  though  gifted  with 
a  moderation  that  frowned  upon  all  ex- 


ORATION.  169 

cesses,  with  a  calm  self-command  that  was 
never  moved,  though  liberty  tempted  to 
license,  and  zeal  was  transformed,  in  other 
minds,  to  fury,  he  spurned  them  all,  to  be 
the  friend  and  soldier  of  Washington. 
How  full  of  meaning  and  of  consolation 
are  histories  such  as  these  !  How  do  they 
vindicate  the  right  and  exalt  virtue,  and 
justify  principle!  Who  is  there  so  drunk 
and  mad  with  the  idea  of  momentary  glory, 
—  who  is  there,  whose  low  ambition,  satis 
fied  with  the  gewgaws  of  an  hour,  would 
not  rather  be  Lafayette  than  Napoleon  ? 
Who  would  buy  the  imperial  throne  on 
which  the  Man  of  Destiny  sat  his  day,  and 
exchange  for  it  that  lofty  seat  in  the  grati 
tude  of  two  nations,-  and  in  the  admiration 
of  the  world,  won  by  Lafayette,  in  a  life  of 
self-sacrifice  and  devotion  to  his  principles? 
Nay,  judging  by  any  worldly  standard 
merely,  was  it  more  glorious  to  tumble 
from  the  giddy  height  of  unjust  dominion, 
and  die  a  prisoner  and  an  exile  upon  a 
rock  in  the  sea,  than  to  have  lingered  in 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

the  dungeon  of  Olmutz,  a  captive  and  a 
martyr  to  Liberty,  with  the  protecting 
sympathies  of  mankind  for  a  support,  to 
come  forth,  at  last,  to  a  higher  and  prouder 
triumph  than  this  world  ever  saw  before, 
and  to  guide  the  destinies  of  his  dear 
France  in  her  next  hour  of  trial  ?  One 
more  great  and  immortal  spectacle  of  the 
enthusiasm  I  defend  was  exhibited  in  the 
pilgrimage  of  the  Plymouth  Puritans:  I 
mean  no  disparagement  to  the  devotedness 
of  others,  —  to  any  of  the  examples  of  mod 
ern  heroism,  that  the  earlier  history  of  our 
continent  presents,  —  but  there  are  few 
stones  in  the  annals  of  mankind  so  pathetic, 
so  heroic,  as  theirs.  When  we  compare  the 
feebleness  of  their  resources,  the  insignifi 
cance  of  their  numbers,  their  poverty  and 
isolated  condition,  both  from  the  helps  and 
sympathies  of  the  world,  with  their  uncon 
querable  zeal,  their  meek  submission,  their 
bold  and  undaunted  energy,  and  their  hum 
ble  and  trusting  piety ;  when  we  contrast 
their  first  impressions  upon  the  tablets  that 


ORATION.  I/I 

record  the  doings  of  the  race  with  the  re 
sults  that  have  followed  the  landing  of  the 
"  Mayflower,"  —  we  may  well  pause,  in  our 
careers  of  selfishness,  and  gain  strength 
from  their  exemplary  lesson  in  the  majesty 
of  enthusiastic  virtue.  Oh !  was  not  that 
a  great  landmark  on  the  coast  of  time,  when 
the  benignant  and  faithful  Carver,  the  ven 
erable,  gray -headed  Brewster,  the  dignified 
and  amiable  Bradford,  the  youthful  and 
gifted  Winslow,  the  great  heart  of  man 
hood,  the  holy  truth  of  woman's  love  and 
childhood  banished  from  the  soft  lap  of 
home,  standing  on  a  lonely  rock,  on  a 
savage  shore,  their  hopes  on  Heaven,  the 
martyrs  of  conscience,  the  founders  of  a 
state,  triumphant  over  all  dismay, 

"  They  shook  the  depths  of  the  desert  gloom 
With  their  hymns  of  lofty  cheer." 

The  youthful  and  aspiring  scholar  finds 
little  in  our  communities  to  encourage  him 
to  imitate  histories  such  as  these.  That 
part  of  society  with  which  he  has  the  readi 
est  contact,  and  whose  influence  he  feels 


172  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

the  most,  are  quite  too  comfortable,  their 
carpets  are  too  soft,  their  suppers  too  good, 
and  their  ideas  too  much  governed  by  "  the 
main  chance  "  to  encourage  the  free  scope 
of  his  ardor.  If  he  would  not  accept  a 
good  call ;  if  he  would  not  marry  a  rich 
wife,  with  a  good  opportunity ;  if  he  would 
not  keep  quiet  about  any  odd  notions  he 
held,  rather  than  risk  a  loss  or  patronage, — 
how  many  there  are  in  society,  who  would 
doubt  whether  what  he  exhibited  as  his 
degree  were  not  the  certificate  that  ought 
to  carry  him  to  the  lunatic  asylum  instead 
of  an  academical  diploma  ! 

This  age  has,  nevertheless,  a  larger  sym 
pathy  with  the  advance  guard  of  progress ; 
for  the  leaven  of  Christian  morals  has  more 
thoroughly  penetrated  it.  But,  when  was 
there  a  time  that  the  very  institutions  of 
government  and  society  did  not  provide 
for  and  encourage  that  very  impulse  in 
human  nature  of  which  we  are  speaking  ? 
There  has  been  the  cloister,  or  the  con 
vent,  for  one ;  there  has  been  the  distant 


ORATION.  173 

pilgrimage  for  another;  the  wearing  pen 
ance  and  the  midnight  vigil  for  a  third. 
And  there  has  been  war,  in  all  its  fasci 
nating  pomp  and  crime,  with  its  elegant 
amenities  occasionally  relieving  its  unnat 
ural  barbarities,  —  the  field  and  the  camp, 
for  the  realization  of  many  a  vision  of 
glory. 

But,  passing  from  this  branch  of  the  sub 
ject,  let  me  explain  what  I  mean  by  what 
should  be  the  aims  and  pursuits  of  the 
American  scholar,  —  the  mode  in  which  he 
must  be  at  once  enthusiastic  and  practical. 
He  must  be  a  man  of  thought  and  of  deep 
convictions.  A  man  is  what  he  believes, 
— he  is  the  embodiment  of  what  he  feels  to 
be  true,  —  the  living  witness  and  exemplar 
of  his  faith.  I  do  not  undertake  to  point 
out  his  creed,  but  only  to  say,  that  he  must 
believe  something,  and  act  as  if  he  believed 
it  to  be  true.  He  must  not  be  a  bigot; 
but  he  has  no  right  to  be  a  doubter.  He 
must  be  open  to  new  convictions,  and  to 
the  modification  of  old  ones ;  but  he  must 


1/4  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

find  some  great  principles  which  are  ever 
permanent,  and  judge  his  opinions  by  these 
as  his  standards. 

He  must  look  with  a  grateful  counte 
nance  upon  the  past,  but  he  must  look  with 
hope  upon  the  future.  "We  are  not,"  says 
one  of  the  leading  minds  of  our  country, 
"  to  hand  down  the  world  just  as  we  found 
it."  This  idea  should  possess  itself  of 
every  American  scholar ;  and  he  should 
seek  to  learn  what  duty  it  assigns  to  him. 
The  men  who  gave  immortal  renown  to 
the  4th  July  in  1776,  did  not  believe  that 
all  human  wisdom  and  prowess  could  do  for 
human  liberty  was  exhausted  some  five 
hundred  years  before,  when  the  British 
barons  wrested  from  the  reluctant  John, 
at  Runnymede,  the  great  forest  charter  of 
British  rights ;  and  forthwith  they  framed  a 
declaration  of  independence.  The  found 
ers  of  our  government  thought  well,  no 
doubt,  of  the  famous  edict  of  Nantes,  by 
which,  under  the  first  Bourbon,  the  gal 
lant  Henry  of  Navarre,  the  bleeding  and 


ORATION.  1/5 

hunted  Huguenots  found  a  period  of  repose 
from  the  pangs  of  persecuting  zealots  ;  but 
they  still  believed  it  to  be  reserved  for 
themselves  to  frame  a  republican  constitu 
tion.  They  were  masters  of  the  thought, 
that  to  every  time  belongs  a  duty  and  a 
destiny. 

But  the  tendency  of  our  minds  is  now 
quite  largely  towards  the  belief  that  the 
days  for  heroism  are  over.  The  belief  is 
not  universal.  It  is  not  true,  and  it  will 
not  last.  There  is  yet  to  be  an  era  of 
moral  heroism  that  shall  challenge,  by  its 
devotedness,  the  best  days  of  the  martyrs ; 
and  it  shall  be  unstained  by  blood,  uncon 
trolled  by  worldly  policy.  It  shall  carry 
no  sword  but  truth,  no  torch  but  the  light 
of  its  own  bright  influence.  It  shall  bring 
no  tears  but  those  of  penitence  ;  it  shall 
break  no  ties  but  those  of  bondage.  It  is 
the  duty  of  the  scholar  to  perceive  and  to 
know  the  signs  of  his  age.  He  is  bound 
to  sympathize  with  its  wants  and  to  stand 
a  sentinel  upon  its  watch-towers.  He  has 


1/  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

no  right  to  repose  under  the  shadows  of 
the  past ;  to  eat  his  bread  and  drink  his 
wine ;  and  take,  listlessly,  the  goods  that 
fortune  has  provided  for  him.  He  has 
been  favored  by  communion  with  the 
minds  of  sages  and  philosophers  ;  he  has 
drank  from  the  wells  of  science ;  he  has 
furnished  himself  from  the  records  of  hu 
man  experience,  and  has  established,  by 
the  aid  of  books  and  reflection,  a  mysteri 
ous  telegraphic  union  between  the  thought 
and  the  history  of  the  past,  and  his  own 
soul.  But  the  philosophers  did  not  think 
for  him  only.  Sages  did  not  write  merely 
to  fill  his  mind  with  truth ;  the  poets  have 
not  sung,  to  give  him,  only,  the  music  of 
their  lays ;  history  was  not  written  for  the 
amusement  of  his  study:  the  sufferings 
and  the  triumphs  of  humanity  have  no 
restricted  office.  The  true  scholar  is  the 
servant  of  his  neighbors:  he  is  bought  with 
a  price ;  he  is  paid  by  the  best  wealth  of 
all  ages,  of  which  he  has  collected  a  part, 
whose  storehouses  he  cannot  exhaust,  and 


ORATION.  177 

from  which   he  may  gather  without   hin- 
derance. 

It  is  no  arrogance  to  assert  that,  were 
the  aims  of  all  our  young  men  who  be 
come  yearly  candidates  for  the  learned 
professions  sufficiently  single  and  well- 
directed,  not  only  would  the  standard  of 
excellence  in  them  all  be  immeasurably 
elevated,  but  the  prosperity,  the  happiness, 
and  the  moral  tone  of  society  itself  would 
be  renewed.  Who  does  not  know  what  an 
amount  of  power  (all  the  more  efficient, 
because  voluntarily  bestowed)  rests  always 
in  their  hands  ;  how  they  teach  weekly 
in  our  pulpits,  and  how  widely  their  opin 
ions  are  respected;  how  they  control  our 
schools  and  universities ;  how  they  are 
heard  by  our  firesides,  in  our  caucuses  and 
conventions ;  how  they  act  through  the 
press ;  how  they  crowd  our  halls  of  legisla 
tion,  and  sit  upon  our  benches  of  justice. 
Were  they  educated,  and  gifted  with  all 
these  means  of  influence  and  power,  only 
that  they  might  gain  a  living,  and  be  written 

12 


178  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

of  in  the  newspapers  ?  The  Indian  hunter 
gets  the  first,  by  chasing  buffaloes  and  trap 
ping  game.  A  juggler  or  a  rope-dancer 
will  make  more  of  a  figure  in  print  than 
they  can.  The  elegant  author  may  be 
noticed  in  the  magazines ;  but  the  man 
who  can  ride  four  horses  at  once,  without  a 
saddle  or  a  bridle,  will  stare  at  you,  in  mam 
moth  capitals,  from  every  corner  of  the  high 
way.  The  writer  of  a  useful  book  may  walk 
through  Broadway  or  Washington  Street, 
and  ten  men  shall  not  know  him  ;  but 
a  nimble  figurante  will  be  cheered  by  a 
crowded  theatre.  But  you  say  that  your 
influence  and  respectability  among  your 
neighbors  is  beyond  all  comparison  with 
rewards  like  these.  And  why  ?  If  you 
value  fame  so  highly,  why  not  do  that  by 
which  you  may  get  before  the  largest 
number  in  the  quickest  way  ?  If  you  are 
anxious  to  be  rich,  why  not  learn  to  per 
form  an  Ethiopian  dance  better  than  any 
artiste  now  on  the  boards,  and  make  your 
fortune  at  once  by  it  ?  The  answer  is 


ORATION.  1/9 

ready:  We  want  not  cheers;  we  want  re 
spect:  we  seek  not  notoriety;  we  would 
have  an  honest  fame :  we  don't  care  to  be 
stared  at  as  curiosities;  we  wish  to  be  hon 
ored  as  men :  we  value  ready  cash ;  but 
we  would  get  it  by  some  worthy  and  useful 
means. 

Then  there  is  something  better  than 
applause,  —  something  richer  than  gold.  I 
accept  the  doctrine :  and  I  ask  that  the  ob 
jects  of  pursuit  among  American  scholars 
shall  be  placed  higher  than  the  highest 
merely  conventional  excellence ;  that  its 
rewards  shall  be  measured  by  their  abso 
lute  worth,  and  not  by  their  price  in  the 
market. 

There  must  always  be  some  who  are 
advocates  of  opinions  in  advance  of  their 
neighbors,  of  society  in  general.  Until  the 
world  has  grown  old,  and  until  mankind 
has  "  burnt  out,"  and  this  round  earth  has 
become  useless  as  a  place  of  discipline,  there 
must  be  the  desire  for  change,  —  the  thirst 
for  realizing  a  higher  life,  in  the  forms  and 


180  MEMOIR   OF  JOILY  A.   ANDREW. 

institutions  of  society.  You  cannot  help 
it  if  you  would.  You  would  contradict  all 
the  purposes  of  the  race,  if  you  did.  This 
fact  the  scholar  should  comprehend  and 
feel,  and  of  it  let  him  never  be  afraid.  He 
should  avail  himself  of  its  advantages,  and 
help  to  give  tone  and  direction  to  the 
movement  spirit  of  his  time.  He  should 
study  the  tides  of  human  thought ;  he 
should  watch  the  breezes  of  human  im 
pulse;  he  should  fathom  those  mysterious 
undercurrents  of  life  upon  which  society 
is  forever  borne  onward.  Its  life-principle 
is  Truth,  and  Truth  should  be  the  bright 
object  of  his  devotion.  He  should  be  its 
hearty  student  and  its  faithful  witness. 
But  "  let  none  imagine,"  says  the  most 
eloquent  and  profound  of  American  essay 
ists, —  "let  none  imagine  that  its  chosen 
temple  is  an  uncultivated  mind,  and  that 
it  selects  as  its  chief  organs  the  unlearned. 
It  is  indeed  appointed  to  carry  forward 
mankind ;  but  not  as  concerned  and  ex 
pounded  by  narrow  minds,  not  as  darkened 


ORATION.  181 

by  the  ignorant,  not  as  debased  by  the 
superstitious,  not  as  subtilized  by  the  vi 
sionary,  not  as  thundered  out  by  the  intol 
erant  fanatic,  not  as  turned  into  drivelling 
cant  by  the  hypocrite.  It  requires  for  its 
full  reception,  and  powerful  communication, 
a  free  and  vigorous  intellect."  All  that  is 
generous  and  expansive  in  learning,  all 
that  is  profound  and  sublime  in  philoso 
phy,  should  be  seized  anxiously  by  the 
scholar,  and  contributed  to  the  work  of 
progress.  If  he  neglects  his  own  cultiva 
tion,  and  does  not  strive  to  master  all  the 
problems  and  assist  in  the  development  of 
whatever  truth  may  bear  practically  upon 
the  interests  of  society,  think  you  that  the 
debt  he  owes  can  ever  be  repaid  ?  Let 
him  not  suppose  that  the  discussion  of 
vexing  and  dangerous  topics  will  cease, 
because  the  more  educated  are  in  general 
silent  upon  them.  It  cannot  be.  No  cry 
comes  up  from  the  wilderness,  that  does 
not  proceed  from  some  precursor  of  good. 
It  behooves  him  to  listen  to  and  to  catch 


1 82  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

the  first  intimation  of  movement,  —  to  find 
out  from  what  point  it  starts ;  to  learn 
what  is  its  basis,  in  the  real  wants  of  hu 
manity,  and  to  co-operate  with  all  earnest 
minds,  in  giving  to  it  efficiency  and  useful 
ness.  Let  him  be  silent,  and  the  very 
stones  will  cry  out  for  him.  Let  the  pul 
pit  be  dumb,  when  human  sin  is  the 
subject,  the  ministers  of  religion  will  be 
denounced  as  the  ministers  of  Satan,  and 
the  altars  of  the  Christian  faith  will  be 
avoided  as  the  altars  of  Belial.  Let  the 
statesman  speak  peace,  when  there  is  none ; 
let  him  deprecate  unwelcome  discussion 
of  questions  intricate  in  statesmanship  and 
troublesome  in  national  affairs ;  let  him 
avoid  the  issues  that  time  and  the  evolu 
tions  of  events  have  made  up  for  him:  and, 
while  he  is  tampering  with  the  people's 
patience  and  trying  to  make  policy  look 
like  principle,  he  will  find  that  the  hasty 
and  the  excited  will  break  loose,  and  even 
the  cool  and  self-controlled  will  become 
inflamed;  and  they  will  curse  him,  and  his 


ORATION.  183 

policy,  and  the  constitution  itself  together. 
But  let  him  have  faith  enough  in  the  truth 
and  in  man  to  suffer  no  covert  motives  to 
control  his  public  conduct,  and  he  will 
learn  that  the  old  Hibernianism,  that  "  the 
best  way  to  avoid  danger  is  to  face  it 
plump"  is  not  the  paradox  it  may  seem. 

I  think  that  one  error  is  about  old 
enough  now  to  be  abandoned.  I  mean 
the  idea  that  so  conveniently  associates  the 
theorist  with  the  marplot,  and  commends 
the  mere  tactician  as  your  truly  practical 
man.  There  is  surely  nothing  worthy  a 
scholarlike  mind  in  this.  It  has  no  phi 
losophy  in  it,  and,  of  consequence,  no  wis 
dom  or  truth.  It  is  a  popular  idea  in  party 
politics,  but  it  is  one  against  which  our 
young  men  should  plant  themselves  for 
ever.  If  you  have  no  theory,  you  have 
no  plan ;  and  if  you  have  no  plan,  you 
have  no  thought,  and  can  be  governed  by 
no  definite  purpose.  It  has  prevailed  so 
'much,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  in  affairs 
of  state,  that  the  most  stupid  barrenness 


1 84  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

has  often  imposed  its  jugglery  upon  the 
people,  and  called  it  sagacious  policy. 
Look  at  the  two  great  political  parties  in 
England,  for  example.  How  little  do  the 
great  principles  at  the  bottom  of  the  two 
find  themselves  consistently  applied  by  the 
party  leaders.  The  Tory  contents  himself 
with  preserving  the  ancient  forms,  and  is 
consoled  by  the  mummy  of  an  old  insti 
tution,  after  he  has  suffered  the  life  to  die 
out  of  it ;  while  the  reforming  Whig  is 
silenced  by  a  mere  piece  of  political  mech 
anism  which  will  wear  out  in  the  usinsf. 

o 

The  best  hopes  of  enlightened  conserva 
tism  and  of  national  reform,  whether  it  be 
in  politics  or  morals,  grows  from  the  same 
parent  stock.  And  the  mistiness  that 
shades  the  opinions,  the  uncertainty  that 
paralyzes  the  efficiency,  of  parties  would  be 
no  longer  the  reproach  of  so  many  public 
organizations,  were  there  more  of  that  far- 
reaching  sagacity,  furnished  by  well-consid 
ered  principles,  steadily  adhered  to.  Men 
would  understand  each  other  better,  would 


ORATION.  185 

find  less  that  they  doubted  in  each  other's 
motives,  as  they  saw  each  other's  doctrines 
the  more  clearly,  and  would  build  up  a 
mutual  respect,  when  they  learned  to  com 
prehend  this  faith.  They  would  find  a 
solid  basis  for  discussion,  grow  less  bigoted 
as  to  measures ;  nay,  they  would  unite  in 
theory  where  they  now  believe  themselves 
to  differ. 

The  true  scholar  is  the  apostle  of  Hope; 
his  voice  is  like  that  of  the  great-hearted 
Lars  Anders  in  that  splendid  romance  so 
full  of  truth  and  natural  pathos  which  has 
lately  come  to  us  from  the  North. 

"  Yes,  I  will  preach  of  Hope  ;  I  will  speak  of 
it  in  dungeons  and  prisons ;  I  will  shout  it  in 
the  ears  of  the  dying  malefactor  ;  I  will  sound 
it  to  the  other  side  of  death.  I  will  cry  into 
boundless  eternity,  Hope  ye,  hope  ye  ! " 

But  Hope  is  not  blind.  It  hopes  because 
it 'perceives  a  prospect;  or,  rather,  we  hope 
because  of  what  we  see  and  know, — because 
of  a  deep  foundation  in  truth,  upon  which 
hope  sits  naturally,  smiling  and  secure. 


1 86  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

He,  then,  who  would  be  a  useful  friend  to 
his  country  must  be  a  thorough  and  brave 
student  of  principles,  upon  which  alone 
policy  can  find  a  basis,  which  alone  can 
furnish  to  hope  a  permanent  foundation. 
Anybody  can  be  an  alarmist,  a  croaker. 
We  never  need  to  send  abroad  for  Balaams 
to  curse  our  Israel :  we  have  a  plenty  of 
such  prophets  with  no  inspiration.  But 
we  need  wise  men,  to  whom  a  present  mist 
shall  not  appear  an  endless  night ;  who 
shall  not  torment  us  with  evil  forebodings, 
because  of  some  momentary  exigency,  and 
scare  us  out  of  our  comfort  and  our  growth 
at  every  eclipse  of  the  moon.  We  want 
statesmen  to  whom  those  mighty  laws  are 
familiar,  those  invisible  powers  are  known, 
by  which  the  world  is  controlled  and  hu 
man  destiny  evolved;  who  shall  not  mis 
take  the  tides  for  a  flood,  the  beautiful  and 
conservative  eccentricities  of  nature  for 
dissolution  of  the  world. 

In  what  I  say  of  the  influence  and  re 
sponsibility  of   the   learned    professions,  I 


ORATION.  IS/ 

mean  to  make  no  assumptions  on  the  one 
hand,  no  comparisons,  invidious,  on  the 
other.  I  mean,  however,  to  insist  strenu 
ously  upon  the  great  duty  of  their  members 
to  make  their  peculiar  advantages  of  po 
sition  the  means  of  promoting  the  widest 
good.  You  must  be  true  to  your  own 
mind,  or  you  cannot  be  true  to  human 
nature.  If  you  do  not  respect  yourself  and 
your  own  convictions,  you  have  no  rever 
ence  worth  the  bestowing  for  others.  If 
you  do  not  stand  by  the  rights  of  the  indi 
vidual  mind,  represented  in  yourself,  you 
are  untrue  to  man,  and  faithless  to  the 
universal  heart  of  humanity.  There  is  no 
bondage  worse  than  the  spiritual  slavery 
of  the  few  to  the  majority ;  and  there  is 
nothing  more  useless  or  more  cowardly. 
It  is,  after  all,  no  compliment  to  majorities 
to  pretend  to  be  convinced  when  the  votes 
are  counted  against  you.  Public  opinion 
is  made  up  of  individual  convictions.  If 
you  must  yield  your  convictions  to  the 
public,  every  other  man  must,  when  the 


1 88  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

vane  changes,  relinquish  his  also,  and  thus 
all  the  value  of  public  sentiment  is  de 
stroyed.  It  becomes  a  weathercock  and 
phantom.  It  is  one  thing  to  submit  grace 
fully  when  you  are  beaten,  but  it  is  quite 
another  to  run  away  without  a  fight.  He 
is  unfit  to  be  the  object  of  popular  regard 
who  bows  to  the  dictation  of  old  authority 
or  to  the  voice  of  the  people,  until  he  is 
convinced  by  reasons  before  which  his  mind 
naturally  gives  way.  Let  every  man,  of 
whatever  capacity,  be  free;  and  the  aggre 
gate  mass  makes  a  free  people  :  nor  can 
you  compose  a  body  of  freemen  from  any 
different  materials;  you  can  make  freedom 
in  no  other  way.  It  is  an  insult  to  the 
people  to  tell  them  they  are  always  right ; 
nobody  will  believe  you,  if  you  do.  Every 
man  knows  himself  to  be  sometimes  wrong. 
No  man  places  implicit  confidence  in  the 
infallibility  of  his  neighbors,  and  the  doc 
trine  of  the  infallibility  of  the  people  can 
find  no  basis  in  the  practical  sense  of  man 
kind.  Moreover,  individuals  change;  and 


OR  A  TION.  1 89 

as  they  go  over  from  one  side  to  another, 
so  majorities  sway  from  one  extreme  in  the 
arc  of  opinion  to  the  opposite :  so  that,  this 
deference  to  majorities,  if  it  were  not  the 
boldest,  hollowest  flattery,  would  be  the 
most  contemptuous  and  impudent  sarcasm. 
As  one  of  the  people  myself,  I  say  that 
we  are  oftener  wrong  than  otherwise,  and 
so  we  have  the  right  to  be. 

There  is,  also,  an  opposite  condition  of 
mind  with  which  one  may  any  day  come 
in  contact,  —  a  perverse  unbelief  in  any 
thing  but  forms  and  institutions.  There 
are  not  a  few  to  whom  a  constitutional 
government  is  still  a  mere  experiment,  — 
to  whom  republicanism  seems  almost  like 
stealing  the  thunder  from  Jupiter.  Noth 
ing  looks  safe  and  natural  that  does  not 
trudge  along  under  the  protection  of  crown 
and  mitre.  All  generous  impulse,  and 
everything  hearty  and  spontaneous,  is 
frightful  and  disorganizing. 

The  American  scholar  should  stand 
equally  far  from  those  sycophantic  fawners 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

upon  the  multitude,  and  these  scared  chil 
dren  of  dusty  traditions.  The  present 
should  be  his  stand-point ;  he  may  gather 
wisdom  from  every  age,  but  the  future  is 
inevitable.  There  he  is  bound,  there  he 
must  go.  He  cannot  retard  the  car  of 
time  ;  let  him  beware  how  he  clogs  the 
wheels  of  human  progress  by  his  super 
stitions  on  the  one  hand  or  his  dema- 
gogism  on  the  other.  Let  him  hold  fast 
the  maxim  of  a  great  and  a  contemplative 
mind,  "  Progress,  the  growth  of  power,  is 
the  end  and  boon  of  liberty."  Combining 
individual  independence  of  thought  with 
reverence  for  the  rights  of  all  minds ;  en 
thusiasm  and  true  devotion  to  his  own 
faith  with  practical  sagacity,  he  will  learn 
to  make  scholarship  something  more  than 
picking  the  dry  bones  of  antiquated  lore, 
he  will  find  in  it  the  means  of  comprehend 
ing  and  reproducing  the  living  thoughts  it 
expresses  and  preserves.  Something  bet 
ter  than  the  stepping-stone  to  popular  dis 
tinction  —  he  will  make  it  the  Servant  of 


ORATION.  191 

Truth.  And  wherever  his  lot  is  cast  in 
life, — whatever  his  sphere  of  control,  —  he 
will  help  to  build  up  in  the  people  a  deeper 
faith,  more  profound  and  abiding  convic 
tions,  a  frank  and  self-possessed  independ 
ence,  the  freest  and  heartiest  toleration. 
And  wherever  one  may  be  found  whose 
purposes  and  efforts  have  an  elevation  like 
this,  him  do  I  hail  as  the  true,  the  model 
scholar.  He  may  have  earned  no  reputa 
tion  among  men,  for  the  variety  or  singu 
larity  of  his  learning;  he  may  have  shrunk, 
always,  from  the  blaze  of  public  positions, 
nor  tempted  the  dangerous  highways  that 
lead  to  fame ;  he  may  be  no  book-maker, 
no  poet,  no  orator,  but  he  is  better  than 
all  these  if  he  is  an  honest  searcher  for  the 
truth,  and  the  faithful  witness  of  what  he 
knows.  He  is  the  genuine  scholar,  in 
spired  by  the  true  enthusiasm.  He  is  the 
practical  man,  the  benefactor  of  the  people. 
He  is  strengthened  by  all  good  influences, 
and  resists,  with  equal  vigor,  the  seductions 
of  ease  and  the  alluring  bait  of  ambition. 


192  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW, 

The  man  stands  before  the  scholar.  Say 
what  we  will  of  high  attainments,  of  dis 
tinguished  position,  of  professional  emi 
nence  ;  exalt  and  defend  learning  and 
literature  and  science,  as  you  will ;  let  it 
be  forever  remembered  that  none  of  these, 
nor  all  these  combined,  can  make  a  MAN. 
They  may  be  added  to  a  man,  but  they  are 
not  him. 

All  these  may  be  the  "guinea's  stamp, 
The  marts  the  gold,  for  a'  that" 

Indeed,  in  this  country,  it  can  hardly  be, 
that  there  are  any  who  may,  as  a  class,  in 
strictness  —  and  by  comparison  with  the 
rest  of  the  world  —  be  called  scholars. 
Learning  is  too  widely  diffused  to  allow 
the  mantle  of  scholarship  to  settle  down 
upon  the  shoulders  of  any  given  order  in 
society.  Our  best  scholars  are  not  always 
the  bearers  of  professional  or  literary  titles, 
and  those  who  have  them  are  not  always 
scholars.  Let  us  be  grateful  that  it  is  so. 
Learning  should  be  like  genius,  having  no 
intimation  of  any  aristocracy.  It  should 


ORATION.  193 

go  to  Jmman  nature,  unmindful  of  acci 
dent  or  circumstance ;  as  the  sweet  muse 
of  poetry  visits  alike  the  peasant  Burns, 
toiling  on  the  cold  and  rugged  heaths  of 
Scotland,  and  the  youthful  and  titled  By 
ron,  bearing  the  honors  of  a  noble  house. 
The  highest  intellectual  culture,  to  be 
availing,  must  develop  the  man.  You  may 
hang  about  yourself  all  the  ornaments  that 
artifice  can  devise,  you  may  trick  out  your 
scholarship  with  all  the  best  finery  of  learn 
ing,  you  may  become  the  admiration  of 
artists  and  the  wonder  of  the  unskilful, 
—  but,  stopping  there,  you  will  have  done 
nothing  that  the  world  will  thank  you  for, 
nothing  for  gratitude,  nothing  for  memory. 
But  plant  deep  in  the  foundations  of  eter 
nal  truth,  educate  and  bring  out  all  within 
you,  by  which  you  are  united  in  the  great 
sympathies  of  a  common  nature  and  a 
common  destiny,  with  the  loftiest  and  the 
comeliest  of  the  human  brotherhood,  and 
you  shall  not  die.  You  shall  live  in  grate 
ful  hearts  after  the  proudest  monumental 
13 


194  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

marbles  have  crumbled  away.  You  shall 
erect  for  yourself  a  memorial  of  joy  that 
will  be  sweet  to  you  in  the  declivity  of 
years,  and  shall  comfort  you,  "  in  the  tra 
vail  of  mortality." 

Faith !  faith  in  man  and  faith  in  God  ; 
this,  this  is  the  secret  of  true  enthusiasm. 
It  is  this  which  has  embalmed  thought,  and 
given  immortality  to  genius.  Go  where 
you  will,  to  all  literatures,  whether  of 
Christendom  or  of  Heathendom,  and  there 
you  will  find  it  so.  Where  is  the  cynic, 
the  doubter,  the  sceptic,  who  has  contrived 
to  grapple  to  himself  the  hearts  of  men  ? 
He  may  have  glittered  in  the  courts  of 
princes,  he  may  have  shone  in  the  saloons 
of  gayety,  but  the  humblest  believer  in 
any  religion,  the  untrumpeted  worshipper 
of  any  thing  divine  is  more  noble  and 
more  beloved.  Scepticism  and  unbelief  in 
those  great  ideas,  moulded  now  into  one, 
and  now  into  another  form  of  religious 
faith,  have  no  place  in  the  literature  that 
has  come  to  us  from  those  who  have  found 


ORATION.  195 

the  master-key  to  human  hearts,  who  have 
marshalled  the  progressive  tread  of  ages. 
But  religion  has  given  to  the  productions 
of  those  who  have  drawn  inspiration  from 
her  sacred  fountains,  the  leaven  of  eternal 
truth,  and  has  imparted  to  them  of  her 
own  eternity.  Here  let  us  rest  at  last. 
Christianity,  the  true,  the  perfect,  the  last 
revelation  to  the  human  soul,  makes  her 
commanding  appeal  to  us  all,  as  men,  and 
as  scholars.  And  we  are  feeble  as  well  as 
false  if  we  refuse  to  bow  down  before  her. 
To  what  purpose  is  culture  if  it  rise  not 
above  the  earth  we  tread  upon  ?  Of  what 
avail  is  learning  if  we  are  ignorant  of  that 
science,  toward  which  all  philosophy  has 
been  struggling,  and  of  which  Christianity 
is  the  teacher? 

Let  the  lips  of  the  orator  be  touched 
with  a  living  coal  from  off  the  altar  of  the 
Lord.  Let  the  poet  breathe  the  airs  of 
Palestine,  once  vocal  with  the  music  and 
the  harp  of  David ;  let  the  philosopher  be 
instructed  by  the  profound  metaphysics  of 


196  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.  ANDREW. 

Paul;  let  the  whole  man  be  purified  by  the 
simple,  the  sublime  revelation  of  the  Gos 
pel.  We  may  do  something  then,  but  not 
otherwise.  For  power,  and  learning,  and 
wisdom,  and  eloquence  can  do  nothing 
alone.  A  man  with  leather-girdled  loins 
will  come  up  from  the  wilderness,  and 
wake  the  slumbering  echoes  of  all  Judea, 
and  the  heartless  formalist,  the  wily  Phari 
see,  and  the  learned  rabbi  shall  tremble 
before  him.  For  God  can  choose  the  weak 
things  of  the  world  to  confound  the  strong, 
and  foolish  things  of  the  world  to  con. 
found  the  wise ;  aye,  and  things  that  are 
not,  to  set  at  nought  the  things  that  are. 


ADDRESS 

AT   THE    CLOSE    OF  THE    SCHOOL    YEAR 

OF   THE 

MAINE     FEMALE     SEMINARY. 

GORHAM,  JULY,  1859. 


ADDRESS. 


FIVE-AND-TWENTY  years  have  enrolled 
themselves  on  the  records  of  the  irrevoca 
ble  past  since  I  —  in  all  the  inexperience 
and  trembling  hope  of  early  boyhood  — 
passed  out  of  the  portals  of  what  was  then 
known,  widely  and  honorably  known,  as 
the  Gorham  Academy,  to  join  my  class  in 
the  wider  sphere  and  maturer  studies  of 
the  college.  From  the  single,  intellectual 
and  moral  guidance  of  that  noble-hearted 
and  kindly-stern  old  man,  whose  earnest 
eye  and  deep-toned  voice,  and  whose  fig 
ure,  bent  by  too  absorbing  devotion  to  his 
work  and  books,  are  among  the  inefface 
able  memories  of  a  life-time;  hence  I  de 
parted,  no  more  to  come  again,  save  as  a 
pious  pilgrim  to  a  shrine,  where  linger 


200  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

tender  and  holy  recollections,  winning  back 
the  willing  feet  of  manhood  to  stand  awhile 
in  love  and  reverence  where  once  they 
danced  in  the  earlier  years. 

I  look  upon  the  well-known  faces  and, 
dwellings  of  the  village,  and  recognize  the 
features  of  a  familiar  landscape,  preserved 
in  the  eye  not  only  by  the  force  of  their 
original  impression,  but  as  retouched  by 
now  and  then  a  flying  visit  and  a  hasty 
summary  and  survey  of  their  changes. 
The  walks,  the  play-grounds,  the  daily 
ascent  to  school,  the  quiet  nooks,  where 
friendly  trees  defended  us  from  the  sum 
mer's  sun,  the  very  dust  of  summer  and 
the  snow-drifts  of  the  winter,  as  well  as  the 
dear  companions  of  those  innocent  and 
more  careless  days,  —  some  whose  friend 
ship  during  all  these  years  has  rendered 
life  more  worth  the  living,  and  some  whose 
memories  make  the  "  silent  land "  itself 
fragrant  and  beautiful,  —  come  back  with 
me  to-day,  and  we  seem  to  re-visit  together 
and  to  hold  a  fond  reunion. 


ADDRESS.  201 

The  intervening  years  become  a  dream  ; 
so  many  seasons,  with  their  birds  and  fruits ; 
so  many  storms  and  so  many  fertilizing 
showers  ;  so  many  experiences  of  life  and 
death ;  of  hope  and  disappointment ;  so 
many  heavy  hours,  when  the  flesh  was 
weary  and  the  whole  head  sick ;  so  many 
strong  and  gallant  days  when  we  stood  up 
in  the  current  of  the  heady  fight,  when  the 
battle-axe  was  but  a  feather,  for  heart  and 
hand  were  both  so  strong ;  so  many  fore 
bodings  have  been  unrealized  and  so  many 
mercies  have  been  spent ;  the  fathers  have 
passed  away  and  their  sons  have  grown 
gray  with  years  and  cares.  And,  yet,  as 
the  river  sweeping  by  leaves  no  trace  upon 
its  banks  of  sand,  as  the  ripple  melts  away 
into  the  mirrored  surface  of  the  pool,  as 
the  earth  —  mother  of  us  all  —  is  young 
and  shows  no  scars  of  time,  so  does  the 
benignant  Providence  smooth  down  the 
roughness  of  our  lives,  tempering  all  things 
by  such  merciful  adjustment,  that  the  aged 
heart  is  warm  and  the  heart  of  manhood  is 


202  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

fresh  with  youth.  I  look  about  upon  the 
fathers  and  upon  those,  my  own  cotempo- 
raries,  who  still  remain,  —  and  with  this 
pause  of  memory,  gratitude  and  reverence, 
I  own  the  lapse,  the  breaches  and  the  bless 
ings  too  of  time,  —  and  pay  my  humble 
tribute  to  the  friends  who  taught  and  led 
my  childhood  and  added  to  its  happiness 
and  peace  and  hopes. 

To  you,  to  whom  this  hour  belongs, 
whose  right  it  is  to  claim  the  thought  and 
effort  of  the  occasion,  I  know  I  do  not 
need  to  excuse  this  moment  of  delay.  Nor 
indeed  do  I  either  think  or  feel  that  any 
cold  and  formal  teaching  of  the  brain,  or 
that  any  didactic  sermonizing — were  it  ever 
so  faultless  or  ever  so  true  in  its  doctrine, 
style,  or  logic  —  would  be  the  service  with 
which  I  might  best  illustrate  the  office  of 
such  an  anniversary. 

At  the  close  of  an  annual  period  of  aca 
demic  study,  when  some  are  leaving  these 
abodes  for  new,  or  for  older  homes,  for 
duties  more  solitary,  active  and  responsi- 


ADDRESS.  2O3 

ble ;  when  all  are  making  a  rest,  making  a 
period  or  a  term,  in  the  progress  of  life 
and  its  education  ;  at  this  moment,  when 
sensitive  natures  feel  so  much  ;  when  the 
hopeful  paint  so  brilliantly  the  images  of 
all  they  fancy  in  what  remains  to  come ;  I 
would  that  I  might  speak  —  not  circu- 
itously  through  the  understanding,  but 
directly  to  you,  yourselves. 

I  know  something  of  what  lies  unspoken, 
and  but  very  rarely  spoken  to,  in  the  in 
most  of  your  souls.  In  the  clearer  and 
more  thoughtful  moments  of  all  your  lives, 
I  know  there  are  moods  of  thought  and 
feeling,  when  duty,  when  the  grand  possi 
bilities  that  are  open  to  us  all,  when  the 
ideal  of  a  noble  life,  the  visions  of  a  truth 
and  beauty,  such  as  even  the  instruction 
of  -bards  cannot  tell  in  word,  and  such  as 
only  saints  and  heroes  have  made  actual, 
possess  and  hold  you. 

It  is  to  those  best  moments  I  wish  I  had 
the  gift  to  speak,  so  that  they  might  not 
end  in  the  mere  luxury  of  reverie,  but 


204  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

might  rise  up  to  the  solemn  beauty  of 
stern  and  high  resolve,  so  that  the  dull 
prose  of  actual  homely  cares  might  not 
dissolve  that  poetic  charm,  leaving  only  a 
few  tears  and  vain  regrets,  half  real  and 
half  romantic,  as  the  poor  remains  of  what 
might  have  been  a  perpetual  feast  with  the 
immortals.  Those  are  the  hours  of  your 
visitation ;  then  it  is  that  the  gateways  of 
the  celestial  and  eternal  city  are  opening 
for  you ;  the  winged  ones  are  fluttering 
around  you,  and  the  influx  of  wisdom  and 
love  from  the  Lord  himself,  through  all 
these  better  thoughts  and  visions,  comes 
in  to  strengthen,  warm  and  regenerate. 
Sometimes  in  books  we  find  the  story  of 
our  own  lives  as  those  lives  are  told  in  the 
hours  when  life  is  thus  transfigured  before 
us ;  sometimes  in  history,  sometimes  in 
fiction,  when  poetry  paints  a  life,  the  poet 
himself  could  imagine  but  never  led. 
Sometimes  in  men  and  women  whom  we 
know,  we  see  and  recognize  traits ;  and 
sometimes  —  but  more  rarely  —  characters, 


ADDRESS.  205 

filled  out  and  rounded  up,  which  seem  to 
be  the  originals  of  our  own  best  aspiration. 
And,  then,  feeling  that  what  we  scarcely 
dared  to  hope  is  not  only  possible  to  the 
contemplation,  but  is  already  a  fact  of  real 
life,  we  are  sometimes  encouraged  by  per 
ceiving  how  possible  indeed  is  a  true  and 
noble  character;  and  more  often,  perhaps, 
dismayed  by  the  desolate  distance  at  which 
we  halt  behind. 

Then,  too,  we  come  to  know  (because  we 
feel  that  it  is  true)  that  it  is  not  what  we 
say,  nor  what  we  do,  but  what  we  are,  by 
which  we  are  most  truly  known  to  God ; 
by  which  we  are  most  truly  judged  by  our 
own  examination  of  ourselves ;  by  which 
we  are  felt  from  the  centre  to  the  circum 
ference  of  each  one's  sphere. 

Character;  or  what  we  are.  That  is 
what  colors  and  gives  tone  and  purpose 
to  what  we  do  and  what  we  say ;  that 
speaks  in  the  voice,  looks  out  from  under 
the  eye-lids,  smiles  or  curls  on  the  lip, 
blushes  in  the  cheek,  clenches  or  un- 


206  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

bends    the    hand,    flushes    or    calms    the 
brow. 

It  is  this  which  makes  the  plain  man 
look  noble,  and  the  proud  man  mean.  It 
is  this  which  makes  some  countenances  a 
benediction  when  they  pass,  and  some  vis 
ages  hard,  sour,  and  insignificant.  I  want 
no  letter  of  introduction  to  accompany  a 
noble  man,  or  a  sweet  and  genuine  woman. 
The  certificates  are  impertinent  which  tes 
tify  on  paper  to  what  is  written  on  the 
speaking  brow,  and  lip  and  eye,  and  cheek, 
which  veil  but  do  not  hide  the  translucent 
soul.  Do  you  talk  of  the  sway  or  influ 
ence  of  some  great  person ;  call  it,  if  you 
please,  some  powerful  leader  of  a  party  in 
the  State ;  some  strong-willed,  clear-minded 
leader  of  a  sect ;  of  some  woman,  who 
leads  the  fashion  of  her  town  ;  or  better 
still,  directs  the  tone  and  quality  of  social 
custom  there;  or  better  still,  is  felt  in  the 
thought  and  culture  of  its  circle  ?  Do  you 
tell  me  that  you  are  not  captivated,  nor 
won  over  to  reverence  or  love  either  the 


ADDRESS.  2O7 

one  or  the  other  of  them  ?  And,  do  you 
ask,  where  is  the  title-deed  to  this  magnifi 
cent  power,  that  you  do  not  see  it  ?  I  tell 
you  that  the  power  and  all  the  power 
they  hold,  or  ever  had,  perhaps  you  yield 
to  as  much  as  any  others  do.  They  may 
be  strong,  but  narrow ;  real  forces  in  the 
direction,  government,  and  growth  of 
States  and  social  circles  ;  but  good  only  in 
the  absence  of  those  who  would  be  better. 
Or  look  again,  lest  you  be  dazzled  by  an 
apparent  power,  which  is  not  real.  There 
is  an  influence  essentially  of  the  man ;  and 
so  there  is  an  influence  only  accidental  to 
him. 

In  the  absence  of  a  natural,  providen 
tial  leader,  like  Moses,  like  Caesar,  like 
Washington,  people  sometimes  choose  an 
official  leader,  who  best  represents  the 
average  of  the  prejudices  and  ignorance 
of  all.  But  when  he  is  chosen,  he  is  rec 
ognized  only  as  one  of  the  parts  of  the 
great  social  machine,  which  must  be  kept 
in  its  motion ;  not  as  the  talismanic  name, 


2O8  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

the  brave  heart,  the  clear,  sound  head,  the 
true,  devoted  friend  of  all ;  the  represen 
tative  of  their  best  thought,  their  best 
culture,  their  highest  aim,  and  their  pro- 
foundest  faith. 

The  queen-bee  is  not  created  by  the 
votes  in  a  ballot-box.  She  presides  be 
cause  she  is  a  Queen.  She  is  a  centre  of 
an  influence  as  subtle  as  it  is  resistless, 
and  as  significant  and  beautiful  as  it  is  real 
and  true. 

Let  who  will  be  Pope,  by  the  suffrages 
of  the  Cardinals,  wearing  the  triple  crown, 
scattering  formalistic  benedictions  and  pre 
tending  to  be  the  Peter  of  the  Church ; 
when  Ignatius  Loyola  comes,  smitten 
with  a  burning,  quenchless  zeal,  possessed 
by  his  idea,  and  alive  with  a  faith  that  sees 
no  mountain  too  large,  no  sacrifice  too 
great,  —  it  is  Loyola,  not  the  Pope,  who 
rules,  though  he  wears  no  crown.  It  is 
Loyola  who  gives  success  and  power,  and 
is  the  Rock,  though  he  does  not  claim  the 
successorship  of  Peter. 


ADDRESS.  2O9 

Leo  X.  may  fulminate  from  the  Seven 
Hills,  affect  the  attributes  of  him  whose 
vicar  he  claims  to  be,  may  bind  and  loose 
on  earth,  and  pretend  to  bind  and  loose  in 
Heaven.  Kings  may  bow  down,  and  the 
Christian  world  stand  in  awe  of  him.  But 
a  monk  arises,  in  a  distant  University  of 
Germany ;  he  is  one  man  against  the  mul 
titude;  a  learned  and  pious  man  against 
the  mighty  spiritual  and  temporal  poten 
tates  of  the  great  States  of  Europe.  The 
prejudices  and  accumulated  opinions  of 
one  thousand  years  stand  up  behind  the 
vast  array  of  powers  and  men.  But  Luther 
stands  almost  alone,  planted  on  the  truth 
he  saw,  and  the  faith  he  knew,  and  the 
invincible  truth,  represented  and  testified, 
in  the  person  of  a  man,  whose  very  voice 
and  style  and  mien  were  the  distinct  em 
bodiment  of  earnest,  certain  and  defiant 
conviction,  vitalizing,  informing  and  creat 
ing  a  character  equal  to  the  emergency, 
fitting  the  man  himself  to  the  hour  he 
came,  revealed  to  Rome,  to  Christendom, 

14 


210  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

and  to  Humanity,  the  unconquerable 
hero  of  an  irresistible  and  imperishable 
reform. 

Victoria,  covered  by  the  imagined  ma 
jesty  with  which  a  loyal  people  invest  a 
Queen,  whose  dominions  belt  the  globe, 
—  perhaps  quite  as  worthy  as  a  matron 
as  she  is  grand  by  her  regal  position,  —  is, 
to  the  unsophisticated  heart,  as  she  surely 
must  and  will  be  in  the  long  history  of  the 
hereafter,  a  pale  and  ineffectual  fire,  when 
we  contrast  with  her  accidental  greatness, 
the  Heaven-elected  Florence  Nightingale. 
Birth,  and  the  ordinances  of  a  State,  made 
the  one  a  British  Queen.  CHARACTER 
made  the  other  —  oh,  how  much  more 
than  royal,  an  almost  peerless  woman. 
Elizabeth  Fry,  Mary  Ware,  Dorothea  Dix, 
and  Harriet  Ryan,  —  I  name  a  few  con 
spicuous  examples  from  a  catalogue,  all 
more  or  less  illustrious,  which  your  mem 
ory  will  fill  up,  —  such  as  these  are  the 
bright  examples  which  decorate,  while  they 
bless  humanity  of  the  character  I  mean. 


ADDRESS.  211 

That  greatness  which  is  good,  and  that 
goodness  which  is  also  great,  do  not  con 
stitute  a  marble  statue,  in  which  one  critic 
may  point  out  the  powerful  proportions  of 
herculean  strength,  and  another  suggest 
the  perfection  of  Apollo's  manly  beauty. 
That  character  at  which  I  have  hinted,  but 
am  not  vain  enough  to  believe  my  words 
can  fitly  describe,  is  not  a  picture  in 
which  you  may  study  the  beauty  of  its 
coloring,  the  accuracy  of  its  delineation, 
the  truth  of  its  outline,  or  the  harmony 
of  its  effect.  It  is  as  much  more  than  a 
statue,  —  it  is  as  much  more  than  a  paint 
ing,  as  Nature  is  more  and  better  than 
Art. 

CHARACTER,  in  the  sense  I  mean  when 
I  have  spoken  of  these  powerful  and  beau 
tiful  persons,  is  open  to  the  acquisition  of 
us  all;  not  less  in  the  cool  sequestered 
vale  than  on  the  giddy  heights  of  conspic 
uous  greatness. 

You  may  achieve  it,  as  well  as  all  they 
who  out  of  weakness  were  made  strong,  of 


212          MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

whom  the  world  was  not  worthy,  who 
through  faith  have  subdued  kingdoms,  and 
obtained  the  promises. 

For  I  have  named  these  only  for  illus 
tration.  The  qualities  which  we  admire 
in  the  prophetic  heart,  the  cosmopolitan 
genius,  the  universal  culture  and  the  inten 
sity  of  thought,  will,  and  feeling,  of  the 
Hungarian  statesman  and  orator,  Louis 
Kossuth ;  the  brilliant  daring,  the  lion- 
hearted  independence,  the  clearness  of 
conception  joined  to  the  intrepidity  and 
skill  of  execution,  which  have  astonished 
Europe  in  the  exploits  of  the  Italian 
patriot  and  hero,  Joseph  Garibaldi,  all,  all 
lie,  whether  as  rudiments  of  character,  or 
as  possibilities  of  accomplishment,  in  every 
man. 

I  have  seen,  I  think,  a  heroism  as  real 
and  as  poetic  in  humble  men,  who  had  no 
history,  and  hardly  claimed  to  hope  for  a 
tombstone  or  an  epitaph.  I  have  heard  an 
eloquence  as  touching  to  the  heart  and  as 
stirring  to  the  blood,  as  any  which  ever 


ADDRESS.  213 

inspired  armies  on  the  eve  of  battle,  or 
senates  in  great  emergencies  of  nations ; 
eloquence  from  as  pure  fountains  of  crys 
tal  thought  and  feeling,  albeit  the  men 
and  women  who  spoke  have  never  had  a 
name  in  the  schools  of  rhetoric,  will  never 
be  reported  in  any  printed  page.  And  I 
have  seen  a  devotedness,  as  true  to  high 
ideals  of  the  purest  chivalry,  as  any  I  have 
read  of  in  the  books  that  testify  of  fame. 

I  own  that  I  almost  lose  my  patience, 
and  find  it  hard  to  maintain  the  grace  of 
charity,  when  I  hear  the  croaking  of  those 
who  with  eyes  which  see  nothing  but 
faults,  and  ears  which  hear  nothing  but 
confusion,  are  permitted  to  walk  on  God's 
green  earth,  to  enjoy  the  society  of  man 
and  the  providence  of  Heaven,  and  who 
see  no  beauty  and  no  good.  Bad,  indeed, 
as  some  men  become  in  the  deep  selfish 
ness  of  their  cold,  inhuman  hearts,  I  have 
scarcely  come  to  know  one,  who  did  not 
reveal  some  better  traits  than  even  his 
friends  had  told  me  of. 


214  MEMOIR    OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

No ;  believe  them  not.  Be  not  deceived 
by  the  comparisons  and  contrasts  seen  in 
the  conditions,  opportunities,  and  original 
qualities  of  different  men.  Judged  by  any 
standard  erected  here  on  earth,  they  may 
seem  to  be  wide,  hopelessly  wide,  apart. 
But  place  your  point  of  observation  in  the 
Heavens,  where  the  Infinite  One,  who 
knoweth  and  loveth  all,  stands  and  sur 
veys  us  here ;  and  the  infinite  distance 
at  which  we  all  are  from  him,  dwarfs  all 
human  differences,  so  that  we  may  begin 
to  comprehend  what  is  meant  by  seeing 
as  we  are  seen,  and  knowing  as  we  are 
known. 

No  ;  and  therein  is  the  longing  of  your 
better  hours  after  the  realization  of  truth 
and  beauty,  after  the  highest  good,  in  your 
own  lives,  a  prophecy  as  well  as  a  desire  of 
the  heart.  Because,  what  in  the  parlance 
of  the  world  we  call  greatness,  success, 
prosperity,  wealth,  power,  position,  are  only 
the  accidents  or  opportunities,  of  which 
noble  and  genuine  men  and  women  avail 


ADDRESS,  215 

themselves,  when  they  come  to  them. 
These  things,  which  I  have  called  the 
accidents  or  opportunities  of  a  man,  may 
shift  and  scatter  like  the  autumn  leaves. 
They  may  desert  him  utterly,  and  leave 
him  as  bare  and  poor  and  desolate  as  Lear. 
But  they  have  not  deprived  him  of  himself, 
nor  of  any  thing  essentially  his;  not  of 
one  real  gift,  nor  one  element  of  his  real 
greatness. 

How  much  finer  do  we  sometimes  see 
the  quality  of  persons  show  itself,  when 
sudden  calamity  has  unhorsed  them  and 
driven  them  to  their  feet,  —  when  they  are 
enabled  to  find  in  themselves,  and  to 
develope  openly,  the  great  qualities  of 
patience,  resignation,  and  personal  inde 
pendence  ;  of  thrift  and  economy,  of  in 
dustry  and  the  capacity  of  usefulness,  of 
cheerful  dignity  in  the  face  of  narrow 
means  and  altered  circumstances.  How 
much  all  of  us  become  indebted  to  those 
who  reveal  the  fragrance  of  a  character, 
made  more  winning,  more  loving,  and 


2l6  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

more  brave  and  peaceful,  by  being  thrown 
back  upon  itself  and  its  trust  in  God. 

It  is  easy  to  be  grand  on  great  occa 
sions.  In  an  army  of  180,000  men,  just 
led  by  Napoleon  for  the  relief  of  Italy,  how 
many  there  were,  of  each  of  whom  it  might 
have  been  said  as  of  Murat,  He  was  the 
bravest  of  the  brave.  How  few,  indeed, 
disclosed  in  fight  the  lack  of  personal, 
physical  courage  and  endurance,  which  we 
recognize  as  the  heroism  of  the  field. 
In  the  perilous  edge  of  battle,  where  it 
raged  the  hottest,  they  poured  in  streams 
of  thousands  and  ten  thousands,  a  human 
torrent,  rising,  surging,  melting,  gathering, 
receding  and  swelling  up  again,  like  a 
stream  encountering  the  rocks  and  head 
lands  that  impede  its  current.  The  col 
umns  stagger  and  fall  before  the  awful 
storms  of  leaden  rain  and  iron  hail ;  and 
warriors  unhorsed,  and  dead  and  dying, 
cover  all  the  ground.  For  every  man  who 
falls  another  comes,  springs  to  the  breach, 
supplies  his  place,  courts  for  himself  the 


ADDRESS.  217 

same  caress  of  death,  and  in  the  frenzy 
of  the  fight  becomes  a  living  miracle  of 
self-forgetfulness,  and  of  the  triumphant 
heart  and  will  of  man.  The  courage  of 
battle  is  the  rule,  while  cowardice  on  the 
field  is  the  comparatively  rare  exception. 

But  though  I  confess  to  a  swelling  of 
the  heart,  to  a  quickening  of  the  pulse, 
when  I  read  the  story  of  such  scenes  as 
every  battle-field  presents,  proving  the 
grand  capacity  of  self-abnegation  there  is 
in  every  man ;  and  how  men  will  lose 
themselves  in  any  cause ;  and  how  the 
intoxication  of  mere  vulgar  glory  will  ab 
sorb  every  passion,  even  the  instinctive 
love  of  life,  —  I  confess  I  perceive  that 
those,  too,  are  occasions  when  it  is  easy  to 
be  great. 

I  turn  to  a  poor  young  man,  a  con 
script  of  France.  He  has  followed  the 
imperial  standard  across  the  Alps,  leaving 
at  home  a  mother  straining  her  weary  eyes 
after  the  fortunes  of  her  boy.  His  heart 
was  warm  and  his  hope  was  high.  But 


218  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

the  waves  of  sorrow  have  overwhelmed 
him.  Wounded  on  the  field  of  victory,  he 
is  carried  bleeding  and  faint,  after  hours 
of  unalleviated  pain,  into  a  crowded  hos 
pital,  where  by  the  hands  of  the  regimental 
surgeon,  he  who  began  the  day  strong  and 
brave,  proud  in  the  vigor  of  his  manhood, 
is  left  the  maimed  wreck  of  what  he  was. 
In  his  dreadful  and  sickening  sense  of 
desolation,  the  home  and  the  mother  re 
turn  to  him.  But  he  remembers  them 
not  to  vex  himself  with  unmanly,  vain  re 
grets  ;  not  to  make  his  torment  worse  by 
adding  to  his  fever  and  distress  by  useless 
longings. 

No ;  but  he  first  indites  a  cheerful  letter 
to  the  mother,  who  might  hear  of  his  fall, 
without  hearing  that  his  life  was  spared, 
and  supports  her  aged  and  maternal  heart 
by  such  words  as  these  :  "  Mother,  the  sur 
geon  of  my  regiment  has  just  taken  off  my 
leg.  I  have  always  been  used  to  having  it, 
and  it  was  cruel  to  part ;  but,  mother,  we 
will  not  worry  about  its  loss.  You  know, 


ADDRESS.  219 

when  I  am  at  home  again,  you  will  always 
have  me  by  your  side,  to  join  you  at  your 
table."  Poor  boy !  Brave,  noble  boy ! 
Noble  in  that  beautiful  affection  which 
made  him  cheerful  for  a  mother's  sake; 
noble  in  that  serenity  of  courage,  which, 
looking  aloft,  had  caught  the  spirit,  if  not 
the  formal  word,  of  "  Faith,  which  casts 
anchor  upwards,  where  storms  do  never 
domineer."  That  was  a  bravery  which 
outvies  the  madness  of  the  field. 

I  doubt  not  that  in  the  annals  of  many 
a  New  England  village  there  are  incidents 
of  as  real  nobleness  and  refinement  of 
character  as  any  which  decorate  the  lives 
of  grand,  historic  personages,  less  conspic 
uous,  less  demonstrative,  perhaps,  but  in 
quality  and  in  kind,  the  same. 

A  man  that  looks  on  glasse, 

On  it  may  stay  his  eye  ; 
Or,  if  he  pleaseth,  through  it  passe, 

And  then  the  heav'n  espie. 

All  may  of  thee  partake  ; 

Nothing  can  be  so  mean, 
Which  with  his  tincture  (for  thy  sake) 

Will  not  grow  bright  and  clean. 


22O          MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A,   ANDREW. 

A  servant  with  this  clause 

Makes  drudgerie  divine  ; 
Who  sweeps  a  room  as  for  thy  laws, 

Makes  that  and  th'  action  fine. 

And  I  doubt  not  the  meanness  and 
ignobleness  of  many,  even  of  those  whose 
advantages  of  talent  and  culture  had  en 
titled  the  world  to  expect  of  them  useful 
and  exemplary  lives. 

I  have  endeavored,  in  these  hasty  reflec 
tions,  to  encourage  you:  ist.  To  rever 
ence  the  Good  that  speaks  within  you.  2d. 
To  believe  in  the  possibility  of  a  life  which 
shall  satisfy  the  best  aspirations.  3d.  To 
recognize  all  times,  places  and  conditions, 
as  equally  real,  if  less  conspicuous  oppor 
tunities  of  moral  greatness. 

And  now  I  pray  you  to  let  me,  in  per 
haps  a  little  more  practical  and  simple 
method,  speak  in  direct  application  to  that 
most  interesting  part  of  this  day's  audi 
ence,  for  whom  the  sympathies  of  the  hour 
are  all  enlisted.  I  have  avoided,  young 
ladies,  the  language  of  didactic  morality, 
of  theologic  instruction.  I  have  used 


ADDRESS.  221 

words  of  the  broadest  significance,  speak 
ing  of  human  life  and  hopes,  duties  and 
capacities,  desiring  to  transcend  all  boun 
daries  of  opinion  and  strike  home  to  honest 
hearts. 

I  have  trusted  myself  to  address  the 
heart  of  ardent  and  ingenuous  youth,  from 
a  standpoint  of  thought  with  which  I  feel 
sure  honest  and  hopeful  minds  will  sym 
pathize.  And,  do  not  mistake  me,  I  am 
not  talking  in  the  sense  of  romance.  I 
have  been  paying  no  tribute  to  fancy,  have 
not  been  indulging  day-dreams,  nor  rever 
ies.  I  believe  in  character,  as  a  real  thing, 
an  essence  and  a  power. 

Of  all  your  education,  the  highest  object 
is  to  establish  that.  Education  is  not  an 
accumulation  of  facts  ;  it  is  not  a  system  of 
philosophy.  It  is  not  language,  nor  math 
ematics.  Education  aims  to  furnish  the 
means  and  materials  by  which  the  mind 
shall  ascertain  and  cultivate  its  relations  to 
all  truth  and  all  duty.  And  be  sure  that 
you  have  had  but  a  cramped  and  unnatural 


222  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

growth,  have  studied  with  mistaken  views 
and  false  aims,  if  the  acquisition  of  the 
facts  of  history,  the  truths  of  nature,  the 
results  of  learning,  have  not  enriched  your 
souls,  enlarged  your  scope  of  thought, 
deepened  your  insight,  given  you  a  better 
hope,  a  fairer  grace  and  culture  of  the 
heart  than  you  had  before. 

We  consult  a  dictionary ;  we  study  a 
science,  we  roam  through  libraries,  culling 
here  and  there  a  fact,  or  a  flower  of 
thought.  We  find  what  we  wish,  and  we 
leave  behind  the  books,  and  care,  perhaps, 
little  for  them,  more.  We  have  mastered 
the  book  ;  and  the  thought  of  the  writer 
has  passed  into  the  mind  and  become  a 
part  of  ourselves.  Not  so  with  our  ac 
quaintance  with  a  refined,  cultivated,  edu 
cated  friend  or  neighbor.  Such  a  character 
is  always  fresh,  fragrant  and  new.  It 
grows  with  every  day ;  all  the  experiences 
enrich  it,  all  the  cares  of  life  tend  to 
develope  it,  all  studies  enlarge  it.  Even 
deprivations  and  disappointments  strike 


ADDRESS.  223 

its  roots  deeper  down  towards  the  eternal 
centre.  Conversation  feeds  it,  contempla 
tion  and  conflict  both  strengthen  it,  and 
the  trials  of  life  sanctify  it. 

Look  within,  my  friends.  Judge  ye  for 
yourselves  whether  your  idea  of  the  edu 
cation  of  the  school  has  thus  embraced  and 
filled  out  your  ideal  of  a  womanly  life. 

Christina,  Queen  of  Sweden,  the  daugh 
ter  of  the  immortal  Gustavus  Adolphus, 
herself  one  of  those  meteoric  persons  who 
seem  to  have  been  made  for  the  bene 
fit  of  biographers  and  to  puzzle  honest 
people,  speaking  of  her  own  remorseless 
industry,  says,  "  the  men  and  women  who 
waited  on  me  were  quite  in  despair,  for 
I  gave  them  no  rest  night  nor  day."  And 
such  was  her  incessant  mental  activity 
that  she  acquired  the  reputation  of  im 
mense  learning.  She  was  reputed  to  have 
rapidly  and  thoroughly  mastered  Greek, 
Latin,  most  of  the  modern  languages,  his 
tory,  philosophy,  mathematics,  geography, 
astronomy,  divinity  and  moral  duties,  as 


224  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

interpreted  by  John  Matthias,  a  pious, 
earnest  man,  from  Luther's  Catechism  and 
the  best  authors.  But,  adds  one  who  has 
sketched  her  character,  the  duty  of  rever 
encing  her  mother,  the  tender,  loving  wife 
and  faithful  widow  of  the  great  Gustavus, 
was  not,  it  would  seem,  included,  for  so 
pained,  offended  at  last,  became  the  dis 
consolate  lady,  with  the  conduct  of  Chris 
tina,  that  she  fled  in  secret  to  Denmark, 
declaring  that  she  preferred  begging  her 
bread  elsewhere,  to  the  state  of  queen- 
mother  at  her  own  daughter's  court.  That 
she  had  great  capacity,  we  know,  although 
we  would  not  receive  for  gospel  truth  the 
exaggeration  and  bombast  of  the  courtier 
who  described  her  as  "  born  with  the  head 
of  a  Machiavel,  the  heart  of  a  Titus,  the 
courage  of  an  Alexander,  and  the  elo 
quence  of  a  Tully." 

Her  father,  lion  of  the  North  and  bul 
wark  of  the  Protestant  faith,  had  fallen  at 
the  battle  of  Lutzen,  in  Upper  Saxony. 
Sweden,  thought  to  have  been,  by  the 


ADDRESS.  225 

fall  of  Gustavus,  hurled  from  her  place 
among  the  nations,  and  the  cause  of  scrip 
tural  truth,  struck  down  in  the  person  of 
its  most  powerful  champion,  were  both 
deemed  to  have  been  saved  and  restored 
by  the  prophetic  advice  of  the  veteran 
Chancellor,  Oxenstiern,  who  proposed  the 
immediate  enthronement  of  Christina,  then 
only  six  years  of  age,  and  her  recognition 
as  the  Queen  of  Sweden. 

Amid  the  general  joy  the  baby  queen 
was  placed  upon  the  throne  of  the  great 
Protestant  warrior.  And  Sweden  and  the 
faith  were  declared  in  her  person  to  have 
found  salvation. 

At  sixteen  years  old,  she  openly  presided 
in  the  Senate,  and  a  French  ambassador 
says  she  was  "  incredibly  powerful  therein." 
At  eighteen  she  governed,  without  any 
check,  as  a  monarch  of  absolute  power. 

But    she  was   imperious,   arbitrary,   and 

self-willed ;    she   exhausted   all    her   grand 

resources   of    occupation  and   amusement. 

At  one  time  the  most  violent  supporter  of 

15 


226  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

letters  and  literary  men ;  at  another  she 
forswore  them  all,  insulted  and  degraded 
scholars  and  philosophers  with  indignities 
and  meanness  not  to  be  borne ;  abused 
her  friends,  berated  all  her  sex,  betrayed 
her  mission  both  as  a  queen  and  a  woman ; 
and  in  twenty-two  years  after  her  ascent  to 
the  throne,  quitted  it  in  satiety  and  dis 
gust,  abdicated  in  favor  of  Charles  Augus 
tus,  the  Crown  Prince  of  Sweden,  left 
the  kingdom  with  her  private  treasures, 
recanted  the  faith  of  her  father  and  the 
doctrines  of  the  Reformation,  was  admitted 
into  the  Church  of  Rome,  and,  after  that, 
describes  her  own  employment,  in  a  private 
letter,  in  terms  like  these :  — 

"  I  eat  well,  sleep  well,  study  a  little,  chat, 
laugh,  see  French  and  Italian  plays,  and  pass  my 
time  in  agreeable  dissipation.  I  hear  no  sermons, 
and  utterly  despise  all  orators.  As  Solomon 
says,  all  wisdom  is  vanity ;  everyone  ought  to 
live  contentedly,  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry." 

She  lived  without  a  conscience,  and  she 
halted  at  no  crime. 


ADDRESS.  227 

Such  is  the  outline  of  the  story  and  life 
of  a  great  and  powerful  princess,  on  whom 
nature  and  accidental  position  had  lavished 
the  noblest  gifts  ;  on  whom  the  highest 
hopes  of  religion  and  the  State  reposed ; 
whose  vigorous  health,  commanding  abili 
ties,  fondness  and  fitness  for  labor,  and 
whose  opportunities  of  instruction  had 
enabled  her  to  become  celebrated  for  her 
acquirements  in  many  of  the  departments 
of  learning.  With  many  royal  qualities,  as 
well  as  a  royal  station,  she  became,  at  the 
best,  but  a  splendid  ruin. 

Elizabeth  Gurney  (afterwards  Mrs.  Fry), 
was  on  her  father's  side  the  daughter  of  an 
ancient  English  family,  and  was,  through 
her  mother,  descended  from  Robert  Bar 
clay,  the  early  apologist  of  Quakerism. 
John  Gurney,  her  father,  was  a  man  of 
great  respectability  and  large  wealth.  Her 
mother  was  beautiful,  gifted  and  good. 
Elizabeth  was  four  years  old  when  her 
family  removed  from  their  residence  to 
Earlham  Hall,  about  two  miles  from  Nor- 


228  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

wich,  a  stately  old  mansion,  once  belonging 
to  the  Verulam  family,  commanding  a 
scene  of  great  natural  beauty  in  a  wooded 
park,  by  the  silver  stream  of  Wensum. 
Her  father  not  belonging  to  the  class 
known  as  plain  Quakers,  and  being  a  rich 
man,  his  family  were  never,  in  any  discipli 
nary  sense,  formal  or  rigid  "  Friends."  She 
was  taught  music,  dancing,  drawing,  and 
other  ornamental  accomplishments.  She 
was  quite  a  proficient  in  operatic  music, 
and  greatly  delighted  in  the  amusement  of 
dancing,  in  which,  by  her  vivacity  and 
grace,  she  easily  excelled. 

She  never  disclosed  any  fondness  for  the 
toils  of  study,  and  seemed  to  dislike  the 
routine  of  lesson  learning  and  recitation, 
gained  no  celebrity  as  a  scholar,  either  by 
any  exhibition  of  native  talent,  or  by  any 
industry  in  the  search  of  knowledge. 

She  was  conscious  of  having  a  keen 
relish  for  admiration  and  light  amuse 
ments,  and  naively  said,  after  having  seen 
the  Prince  of  Wales  at  the  opera:  "I  do, 


ADDRESS.  229 

I  own,  love  grand  company ;  "  and  at  an 
other  time  ingenuously  admits,  "  I  do  love 
a  piece  of  scandal." 

One  morning,  in  1804,  when  Elizabeth 
Fry  was  scarcely  twenty-four  years  old,  a 
party  of  Quaker  friends  visited  the  misera 
ble  quadrangular  enclosure,  in  Newgate 
Jail,  where  some  three  hundred  female 
prisoners  were  herded  together,  in  squalor, 
filth,  and  all  external  signs  of  misery. 
They  were  many  of  them  profane,  obscene, 
and  drunken.  But,  without  regard  to  age, 
or  the  quality  of  their  offences,  and  with 
out  regard  to  the  fact  whether  they  were 
convicted  felons,  or  only  suspected  persons 
detained  for  trial,  the  poor  creatures  stood 
there  together  under  one  common  curse  of 
social  outlawry,  poverty  and  shame. 

"  They  are  utterly  irreclaimable,  be 
assured;  sunk  in  depravity  and  crime 
beyond  the  power  of  rescue,"  declared  an 
officer  of  Newgate,  to  a  suggestion  of  one 
of  the  "  Friends,"  in  behalf  of  these  poor 
sisters  of  sin  and  misfortune.  The  Chris- 


230  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

tian  churches  and  people  of  England,  — 
of  that  England  "  whose  flag  had  braved  a 
thousand  years,  the  battle  and  the  breeze," 
on  whose  empire  the  sun  never  sets,  whose 
naval  and  military  power,  whose  com 
mercial  influence,  and  whose  literature, 
science  and  jurisprudence,  outshone  the 
splendors  of  any  other  land  in  any  age, 
and  whose  church  establishment  and  dis 
senting  clergy  combined,  presented  an 
array  of  scholars  and  divines,  unsurpassed 
in  the  history  of  the  Protestant  faith, — were 
helpless  and  powerless  to  give  a  ray  of 
hope  to  the  poor  and  wretched  whom  the 
Master  had  most  especially  commanded 
them  to  visit  and  succor.  "  Thou  dost  not 
surely  mean,  that  they  are  beyond  the 
power  and  the  reach  of  God  ?  "  exclaimed 
Elizabeth  Fry,  in  a  voice  singularly  sweet 
by  nature,  and  with  her  peculiarly  clear, 
thrilling  tone. 

A  few  days  afterwards  the  youthful 
matron,  now  in  the  fulness  of  her  woman 
hood,  tall,  fair  and  graceful,  then  a  "  plain 


ADDRESS.  231 

Quaker,"  but  still  richly  habited  in  the 
costume  of  her  sect,  reappeared  at  New 
gate,  asked  to  be  admitted  to  the  quadran 
gle  and  to  be  left  there  alone  with  the 
female  prisoners.  Astounded  at  the  re 
quest,  the  Governor  and  all  the  officials  of 
Newgate,  chaplain  included,  endeavored 
to  dissuade  the  beautiful  missionary  from 
encountering  the  disgusting  contact,  the 
dangerous  and  hopeless  task.  "  I  am  in 
the  hands  of  God,  and  in  his  fear  I  feel  no 
other."  Her  character,  her  social  position 
as  a  gentlewoman,  her  persistent  firmness, 
overcame  the  officials,  and  she  entered. 
From  the  words  of  the  Saviour  she  read 
aloud  out  of  the  open  book.  The  sweet 
promise,  the  tender  invitations  of  grace, 
fell  on  the  ears  of  women  who  knew  God 
and  Christ  only  as  words  with  which  to 
intensify  a  curse,  or  only  as  dim  memories 
of  a  buried  hope. 

The  pathetic  tone  of  that  charming 
voice,  and  her  beautiful  countenance,  lit 
up  by  heavenly  love,  seemed  to  make  her 


232  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW, 

the  embodiment  in  flesh  of  the  sublime 
chanty  she  taught. 

The  tumult  of  beggary,  audacity  and 
folly,  which  saluted  her  approach,  subsided, 
as  she  read.  The  magnetism  of  love 
leaped  from  her  serene  and  pious  heart  to 
theirs.  They  stay  their  Babel  cries  to 
catch  the  accents  and  the  words  of  so 
much  tenderness.  The  quenchless  spark 
of  the  Divine  was  fanned  by  Heaven's  own 
breath,  and  warmed  in  those  poor  hearts 
anew.  "Hush"  (when  some  slight  noise 
disturbed  again  the  current  of  her  reading), 
"  Hush,"  exclaimed  a  woman  with  glitter 
ing  eye  and  fevered  cheek,  "  the  angels 
have  lent  her  their  voices." 

Six  years  before,  Mrs.  Fry,  then  the  gay 
and  beautiful  Elizabeth  Gurney,  listened 
at  Norwich  to  William  Savery,  a  Quaker 
preacher  from  America,  who  bore  earnest 
and  solemn  testimony  of  the  dangers  that 
beset  those  "  who  wander  from  the  simple, 
safe  path  of  self-denial."  She  went  home 
weeping  in  her  carriage.  William  Savery 


ADDRESS.  233 

saw  her  at  her  father's  home,  at  Earlham 
Hall,  and  pointed  her  to  a  future  career  of 
usefulness  and  true  nobility  in  the  love  of 
God  and  her  fellowmen. 

"  Strange,  indeed,  that  it  should  be  said 
to  me  that  I  may  prove  sight  to  the  blind, 
speech  to  the  dumb,  and  feet  to  the  lame. 
Can  it  be?"  Yes,  Elizabeth,  and  more, 
far  more,  than  these ;  thou  shalt  be  soaring 
wings  to  sinking  hearts  and  heavy-laden 
souls,  bearing  them  up  from  the  clouds  and 
pestilence  of  earth  to  the  peace  of  Heaven. 

You  know  her  long  and  self-denying  life, 
commanding  respect  and  winning  love ;  a 
bright  example  of  womanhood,  by  the 
purity  and  beauty  of  a  character  as  simple 
and  unaffected  as  any  poet  ever  dreamed 
of  in  sylvan  life,  and  as  steadfast  as  the 
rock  of  truth  she  stood  on.  The  humble, 
the  poor,  and  the  prisoner,  loved  her  as 
their  friend ;  the  highest  in  the  land  gave 
to  her  the  homage  of  their  unaffected 
admiration.  In  the  sixty-seventh  year  of 
her  age,  she  breathed  out  her  spirit,  with 


234  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

a  smile  on  her  lips,  as  if  an  angel  had 
kissed  them,  whispering  in  death :  "  It  is 
a  strife,  but  I  am  safe." 

Contrast  the  life  and  the  words  of  Chris 
tina,  the  proud  and  talented  Swedish  queen, 
with  the  life,  and  the  peaceful  parting  words 
of  Elizabeth  Fry,  and  remember  the  selfish 
ness  of  the  one,  and  the  self-devotion  of  the 
other. 

The  character  of  Christina  was  formed 
on  the  pattern  of  a  vain-glorious,  self- 
seeking  and  absorbing  egotism;  Elizabeth 
Gurney  was  recalled  in  her  girlhood  to 
the  "  simple,  safe  path  of  self -denial "  by 
the  inspiring  earnestness  of  the  Quaker 
preacher. 

Whether  in  the  pursuits  of  learning,  of 
power,  of  fame  or  pleasure,  Christina  was 
the  proud,  imperious  queen,  and  the  heart 
less  epicurean.  Elizabeth  conquered  her 
young  frivolities,  cleared  and  concentrated 
her  intellectual  powers  by  purifying  her 
heart  and  reposing  her  soul  on  immor 
tality. 


ADDRESS.  235 

There  is  no  mystery  in  a  true  and  noble 
life.  "  The  word  is  very  nigh  unto  thee. 
It  is  in  thy  heart."  Be  true  to  the  highest 
good  you  know ;  stand  fast  by  the  teach 
ing  and  the  warning  of  your  best  and 
tenderest  hours.  In  the  quiet  of  the  study, 
in  the  whirl  of  social  life,  in  the  engross 
ment  of  daily  toils,  in  the  absorption  of 
domestic  cares,  in  the  relations  of  the  fire 
side,  of  the  neighborhood  and  of  society, 
still  be  faithful  and  true,  speaking  little  of 
duty,  but  doing  much.  There  is  a  secret 
in  every  soul,  between  itself  and  God. 
Guard  it  as  the  vestal  fire. 

It  is  your  assurance  of  usefulness  and 
peace  for  ever.  In  quietness  and  confi 
dence,  with  smiling  face  and  cheerful, 
hearty  voice,  pass  on  from  duty  to  duty, 
through  all  the  cares  and  trials  of  your  lot. 
Affect  no  singularities  of  speech  or  style. 
Be  catholic,  charitable,  amiable,  firm  and 
free.  Forbid  no  man  nor  woman.  Let 
each  exorcise  sin  and  slay  the  adversary  in 
his  own  way.  Life  is  too  short,  and  the 


236  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

field  is  too  white,  for  debate  among  the 
reapers.  Forget  the  words  applause  and 
fame.  You  shall  win  more  than  popular 
ity  ;  you  shall  command  the  sweet  rewards 
of  Love. 


VALEDICTORY    ADDRESS 


TO   THE 


TWO     BRANCHES     OF     THE     LEGISLATURE. 
JANUARY  5,  1866. 


ON  retiring  from  office,  Governor  Andrew  delivered 
the  following  address  to  the  General  Court  of  Massachu 
setts  ;  "the  sentiments  and  logic  of  which  he  maintained, 
without  qualification,  to  the  day  of  his  death  ;  and  by 
which  he  expressed  a  wish  that  his  title  to  fame  in  the 
history  of  his  country  should  be  determined."  Of  this 
memorable  scene  an  eye-witness  says  :  "  Who  that  was 
present  can  forget  that  last  day  in  office  ?  He  invited  to 
his  rooms  a  large  number  of  his  friends  to  go  in  with  him 
and  hear  the  address.  There  you  saw  together  a  remark 
able  company.  There  were  men  and  women  of  all  ages  ; 
from  Levi  Lincoln,  then  eighty-four  years  of  age,  to  little 
boys  and  girls.  Side  by  side  were  old  abolitionists  and 
old  conservatives,  orthodox  men  and  radicals  — those  who 
had  never  met  before  in  one  room  in  their  lives." 


VALEDICTORY   ADDRESS. 


Gentlemen  of  the  Senate  and  the 

House  of  Representatives :  — 

THE  people  of  Massachusetts  have  vin 
dicated  alike  their  intelligence,  their  pat 
riotism,  their  will,  and  their  power;  both 
in  the  cultivation  of  the  arts  of  Peace,  and 
in  the  prosecution  of  just  and  unavoidable 
War.  At  the  end  of  five  years  of  Execu 
tive  administration,  I  appear  before  a  Con 
vention  of  the  two  Houses  of  her  General 
Court,  in  the  execution  of  a  final  duty. 

For  nearly  all  that  period,  the  Common 
wealth,  as  a  loyal  State  of  the  American 
Union,  has  been  occupied,  within  her  sphere 
of  co-operation,  in  helping  to  maintain,  by 
arms,  the  power  of  the  nation,  the  liberties 
of  the  people,  and  the  rights  of  human  na 
ture. 


24O  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

Having  contributed  to  the  Army  and  the 
Navy  —  including  regulars,  volunteers,  sea 
men,  and  marines,  men  of  all  arms  and 
officers  of  all  grades,  and  of  the  various 
terms  of  service  —  an  aggregate  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty-nine  thousand  one  hun 
dred  and  sixty-five  men  ;  and  having  ex 
pended  for  the  war,  out  of  her  own  Treasury, 
twenty-seven  million  seven  hundred  and 
five  thousand  one  hundred  and  nine  dol 
lars, — besides  the  expenditures  of  her  cities 
and  towns,  she  has  maintained,  by  the  un 
failing  energy  and  economy  of  her  sons  and 
daughters,  her  industry  and  thrift,  even  in 
the  waste  of  war.  She  has  paid  promptly, 
and  in  gold,  all  interest  on  her  bonds,  — 
including  the  old  and  the  new,  —  guarding 
her  faith  and  honor  with  every  public  credi 
tor,  while  still  fighting  the  public  enemy; 
and  now,  at  last,  in  retiring  from  her  ser 
vice,  I  confess  the  satisfaction  of  having 
first  seen  all  of  her  regiments  and  batteries, 
(save  two  battalions,)  returned  and  mus 
tered  out  of  the  Army ;  and  of  leaving  her 


VALEDICTORY   ADDRESS.  24! 

treasury  provided  for,  by  the  fortunate  and 
profitable  negotiation  of  all  the  permanent 
loan  needed  or  foreseen  —  with  her  finan 
cial  credit  maintained  at  home'  and  abroad, 
her  public  securities  unsurpassed,  if  even 
equalled,  in  value  in  the  money  market  of 
the  world  by  those  of  any  State  or  of  the 
Nation. 

I  have  already  had  the  honor  to  lay  be 
fore  the  General  Court,  by  special  message 
to  the  Senate,  a  statement  of  all  affairs 
which  demand  my  own  official  communi 
cation.  And  it  only  remains  for  me,  to 
transfer,  at  the  appropriate  moment,  the 
cares,  the  honors,  and  the  responsibilities 
of  office,  to  the  hands  of  that  eminent  and 
patriotic  citizen,  on  whose  public  experi 
ence  and  ability  the  Commonwealth  so 
justly  relies. 

But,  perhaps,  before  descending,  for  the 
last  time,  from  this  venerable  seat,  I  may 
be  indulged  in  some  allusion  to  the  broad 
field  of  thought  and  statesmanship,  to 

which    the   war   itself   has   conducted   us. 
16 


242  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

As  I  leave  the  Temple  where,  humbled 
by  my  unworthiness,  I  have  stood  so  long, 
like  a  priest  of  Israel  sprinkling  the  blood 
of  the  holy  sacrifice  on  the  altar  —  I 
would  fain  contemplate  the  solemn  and 
manly  duties  which  remain  to  us  who  sur 
vive  the  slain,  in  honor  of  their  memory 
and  in  obedience  to  God. 

The  Nation  having  been  ousted  by 
armed  Rebellion  of  its  just  possession,  and 
the  exercise  of  its  constitutional  jurisdic 
tion  over  the  territory  of  the  Rebel  States, 
has  now  at  last,  by  the  suppression  of  the 
Rebellion,  (accomplished  by  the  victories 
of  the  national  arms  over  those  of  the 
Rebels,)  regained  possession  and  restored 
its  own  rightful  sway. 

The  Rebels  had  overthrown  the  loyal 
State  Governments.  They  had  made  war 
against  the  Union.  The  government  of 
each  Rebel  State  had  not  only  withdrawn 
its  allegiance,  but  had  given  in  its  adhesion 
to  another,  viz.,  The  Confederate  Govern 
ment, —  a  government,  not  only  injurious 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  243 

by  its  very  creation,  but  hostile  to,  and  in 
arms  against,  the  Union,  asserting  and  ex 
ercising  belligerent  rights,  both  on  land 
and  sea,  and  seeking  alliances  with  foreign 
nations,  even  demanding  the  armed  inter 
vention  of  neutral  powers. 

The  pretensions  of  this  "  Confederacy  " 
were  maintained  for  some  four  years,  in 
one  of  the  most  extensive,  persistent  and 
bloody  wars  of  History.  To  overcome  it 
and  maintain  the  rights  and  the  very  exist 
ence  of  the  Union,  our  National  Govern 
ment  was  compelled  to  keep  on  foot  one 
of  the  most  stupendous  military  establish 
ments  the  world  has  ever  known.  And 
probably  the  same  amount  of  force,  naval 
and  military,  was  never  organized  and  in 
volved  in  any  national  controversy. 

On  both  sides  there  was  war,  with  all  its 
incidents,  all  its  claims,  its  rights  and  its 
results. 

The  States  in  rebellion  tried,  under  the 
lead  of  their  new  Confederacy,  to  conquer 
the  Union ;  but  in  the  attempt  they  were 
themselves  conquered. 


244  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

They  did  not  revert  by  their  rebellion, 
nor  by  our  conquest,  into  "  Territories." 
They  did  not  commit  suicide.  But  they 
rebelled,  they  went  to  war ;  and  they  were 
conquered. 

A  "  territory  "  of  the  United  States  is  a 
possession,  or  dependency,  of  the  United 
States,  having  none  of  the  distinctive,  con 
stitutional  attributes  of  a  State.  A  terri 
tory  might  be  in  rebellion ;  but  not  thereby 
cease  to  be  a  territory.  It  would  be  prop 
erly  described  as  a  territory  in  rebellion. 
Neither  does  a  State  in  rebellion  cease  to 
be  a  State.  It  would  be  correctly  de 
scribed,  a  State  in  rebellion.  And  it  would 
be  subject  to  the  proper  consequences  of 
rebellion,  both  direct  and  incidental, — 
among  which  may  be  that  of  military  gov 
ernment,  or  supervision,  by  the  nation, 
determinable  only  by  the  nation,  at  its  own 
just  discretion,  in  the  due  exercise  of  the 
rights  of  war.  The  power  to  put  an  end 
to  its  life  is  not  an  attribute  of  a  State  of 
our  Union.  Nor  can  the  Union  put  an 


VALEDICTORY   ADDRESS.  24$ 

end  to  its  own  life,  save  by  an  alteration  of 
the  National  Constitution,  or  by  suffering 
such  defeat,  in  war,  as  to  bring  it  under 
the  jurisdiction  of  a  conqueror.  The  na 
tion  has  a  vested  interest  in  the  life  of  the 
individual  State.  The  States  have  a  vested 
interest  in  the  life  of  the  Union.  I  do 
not  perceive,  therefore,  how  a  State  has 
the  power  by  its  own  action  alone,  with 
out  the  co-operation  of  the  Union,  to  de 
stroy  the  continuity  of  its  corporate  life. 
Nor  do  I  perceive  how  the  National  Union 
can  by  its  own  action,  without  the  action 
or  omission  of  the  States,  destroy  the  con 
tinuity  of  its  own  corporate  life.  It  seems 
to  me  that  the  stream  of  life  flows  through 
both  State  and  Nation  from  a  double 
source ;  which  is  a  distinguishing  element 
of  its  vital  power.  Eccentricity  of  motion 
is  not  death  ;  nor  is  abnormal  action  or 
ganic  change. 

The  position  of  the  rebel  States  is  fixed 
by  the  Constitution,  and  by  the  laws,  or 
rights,  of  war.  If  they  had  conquered  the 


246  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

Union,  they  might  have  become  indepen 
dent,  or  whatever  else  it  might  have  been 
stipulated  they  should  become,  by  the 
terms  of  an  ultimate  treaty  of  peace.  But 
being  conquered,  they  failed  in  becoming 
independent,  and  they  failed  in  accomplish 
ing  anything  but  their  own  conquest.  They 
were  still  States,  —  though  belligerents 
conquered.  But  they  had  lost  their  loyal 
organization  as  States,  lost  their  present 
possession  of  their  political  and  representa 
tive  power  in  the  Union.  Under  the  Con 
stitution  they  have  no  means  nor  power 
of  their  own  to  regain  it.  But  the  exigency 
is  provided  for  by  that  clause  in  the  Fed 
eral  Constitution  in  which  the  Federal 
Government  guarantees  a  republican  form 
of  government  to  every  State.  The  regu 
lar  and  formal  method  would  be,  therefore, 
for  the  National  Government  to  provide 
specifically  for  their  re-organization. 

The  right  and  duty,  however,  of  the 
General  Government,  under  the  circum 
stances  of  their  present  ease,  is  not  the 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  247 

single  one  of  re-organizing  these  disorgan 
ized  States.  The  war  imposed  rights  and 
duties,  peculiar  to  itself,  and  to  the  rela 
tions  and  the  results  of  War.  The  first 
duty  of  the  Nation  is  to  regain  its  own 
power.  It  has  already  made  a  great  ad 
vance  in  the  direction  of  its  power. 

If  ours  were  a  despotic  government,  it 
might  even  now  be  thought  that  it  had 
already  accomplished  the  re-establishment 
of  its  power  as  a  government.  But,  ours 
being  a  republican  and  a  popular  govern 
ment,  it  cannot  be  affirmed,  that  the  proper 
power  of  the  government  is  restored,  until 
a  peaceful,  loyal  and  faithful  state  of  mind 
gains  a  sufficient  ascendancy  in  the  rebel 
and  belligerent  States,  to  enable  the  Union 
and  loyal  citizens  everywhere  to  repose 
alike  on  the  purpose  and  the  ability  of 
their  people,  in  point  of  numbers  and  ca 
pacity,  to  assert,  maintain  and  conduct 
State  Governments,  republican  in  form, 
loyal  in  sentiment  and  character,  with 
safety  to  themselves  and  to  the  national 


248  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

whole.  If  the  people,  or  too  large  a  por 
tion  of  the  people,  of  a  given  rebel  State, 
are  not  willing  and  able  to  do  this,  then 
the  state  of  war  still  exists,  or  at  least,  a 
condition  consequent  upon  and  incidental 
thereto  exists,  which  only  the  exercise  on 
our  part  of  belligerent  rights,  or  some  of 
their  incidents,  can  meet  or  can  cure.  The 
rights  of  war  must  continue  until  the  ob 
jects  of  the  war  have  been  accomplished, 
and  the  nation  recognizes  the  return  of  a 
state  of  peace.  It  is  absolutely  necessary 
then  for  the  Union  Government  to  pre 
scribe  some  reasonable  test  of  loyalty  to 
the  people  of  the  States  in  rebellion.  It  is 
necessary  to  require  of  them  conformity  to 
those  arrangements  which  the  war  has 
rendered,  or  proved  to  be,  necessary  to  the 
public  peace,  and  necessary  as  securities 
for  the  future.  As  the  conquering  party, 
the  National  Government  has  the  right  to 
govern  these  belligerent  States  meanwhile, 
at  its  own  wise  and  conscientious  discre 
tion,  subject:  ist.  To  the  demands  of 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  249 

natural  justice,  humanity  and  the  usages 
of  civilized  nations.  2d.  To  its  duty  under 
the  Constitution,  to  guarantee  Republican 
governments  to  the  States. 

But  there  is  no  arbiter,  save  the  people 
of  the  United  States,  between  the  Gov 
ernment  of  the  Union  and  those  States. 
Therefore  the  precise  things  to  be  done, 
the  precise  way  to  do  them,  the  precise 
steps  to  be  taken,  their  order,  progress  and 
direction,  are  all  within  the  discretion  of 
the  National  Government,  in  the  exercise, 
both  of  its  belligerent,  and  its  more  strictly 
constitutional,  functions, — exercising  them 
according  to  its  own  wise,  prudent  and  just 
discretion.  Its  duty  is  not  only  to  restore 
those  States,  but  also  to  make  sure  of  a 
lasting  peace,  of  its  own  ultimate  safety, 
and  the  permanent  establishment  of  the 
rights  of  all  its  subjects.  To  this  end,  I 
venture  the  opinion  that  the  Government 
of  the  United  States  ought  to  require  the 
people  of  those  States  to  reform  their  Con 
stitutions,  — 


250  MEMOIR  OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

1.  Guaranteeing  to  the  people  of  color, 
now  the  wards  of  the  Nation,  their  civil 
rights  as  men  and  women,  on  an  equality 
with  the  white  population,  by  amendments, 
irrepealable  in  terms. 

2.  Regulating  the  elective  franchise  ac 
cording  to  certain  laws  of  universal  appli 
cation,  and  not  by  rules  merely  arbitrary, 
capricious  and  personal. 

3.  Annulling  the  ordinances   of  Seces 
sion. 

4.  Disaffirming  the  Rebel  Debt,  and 

5.  To  ratify  the  anti-slavery  amendment 
of  the  United  States  Constitution  by  their 
legislatures. 

And  I  would  have  all  these  questions, 
save  the  fifth  —  the  disposition  of  which  is 
regulated  by  the  Federal  Constitution  —  put 
to  the  vote  of  the  People  themselves.  We 
should  neither  be  satisfied  with  the  action 
of  the  conventions  which  have  been  held, 
nor  with  what  is  termed  the  "  loyal  vote." 
We  want  the  popular  vote.  And  the  rebel 
vote  is  better  than  the  loyal  vote,  if  on  the 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  2$\ 

right  side.  If  it  is  not  on  the  right  side, 
then  I  fear  those  States  are  incapable  at 
present  of  re-organization ;  the  proper 
power  of  the  Union  Government  is  not 
restored  ;  the  people  of  those  States  are 
not  yet  prepared  to  assume  their  original 
functions  with  safety  to  the  Union  ;  and 
the  state  of  war  still  exists;  for  they  are 
contumacious  and  disobedient  to  the  just 
demands  of  the  Union,  disowning  the  just 
conditions  precedent  to  re-organization. 

We  are  desirous  of  their  re-organization, 
and  to  end  the  use  of  the  war  power.  But 
I  am  confident  we  cannot  re-organize  po 
litical  society  with  any  proper  security : 
i.  Unless  we  let  in  the  people  to  a  co 
operation,  and  not  merely  an  arbitrarily 
selected  portion  of  them.  2.  Unless  we 
give  those  who  are,  by  their  intelligence 
and  character,  the  natural  leaders  of  the 
people,  and  who  surely  will  lead  them  by- 
and-by,  an  opportunity  to  lead  them  now. 

I  am  aware  that  it  has  been  a  favorite 
dogma  in  many  quarters,  "  No  Rebel  Vot- 


252,          MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

ers?  But  —  it  is  impossible  in  certain 
States  to  have  any  voting  by  white  men,  if 
only  "  loyal  men  "  —  i.  e.,  those  who  con 
tinued  so,  during  the  rebellion,  are  per 
mitted  to  vote.  This  proposition  is  so 
clear  that  the  President  adopted  the  expe 
dient  of  assuming  that  those  who  had  not 
risen  above  certain  civil  or  military  grades 
in  the  Rebel  public  service,  and  who  had 
neither  inherited  nor  earned  more  than  a 
certain  amount  of  property,  should  be 
deemed  and  taken  to  be  sufficiently  harm 
less  to  be  intrusted  with  the  suffrage  in 
the  work  of  re-organization.  Although 
there  is  some  reason  for  assuming  that  the 
less  conspicuous  and  less  wealthy  classes 
of  men  had  less  to  do  than  their  more 
towering  neighbors  in  conducting  the 
States  into  the  Rebellion  and  through  it 
—  still  I  do  not  imagine  that  either  wealth 
or  conspicuous  position,  which  are  only  the 
accidents  of  men,  or  at  most,  only  external 
incidents,  affect  the  substance  of  their 
characters.  I  think  the  poorer  and  less 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  2$$ 

significant  men  who  voted,  or  fought,  for 
"  Southern  Independence "  had  quite  as 
little  love  for  "  the  Yankees,"  quite  as  much 
prejudice  against  "  the  Abolitionists,"  quite 
as  much  contempt  for  the  colored  man, 
and  quite  as  much  disloyalty  at  heart,  as 
their  more  powerful  neighbors. 

The  true  question  is,  now,  not  of  past 
disloyalty,  but  of  present  loyal  purpose. 
We  need  not  try  to  disguise  the  fact,  that 
we  have  passed  through  a  great  popular 
revolution.  Everybody  in  the  Rebel  States 
was  disloyal,  with  exceptions  too  few  and 
too  far  between  to  comprise  a  loyal  force, 
sufficient  to  constitute  the  State,  even  now 
that  the  armies  of  the  Rebellion  are  over 
thrown.  Do  not  let  us  deceive  ourselves. 
The  truth  is,  the  public  opinion  of  the 
white  race  in  the  South  was  in  favor  of  the 
rebellion.  The  colored  people  sympa 
thized  with  the  Union  cause.  To  the  ex 
tent  of  their  intelligence,  they  understood 
that  the  success  of  the  South  meant  their 
continued  slavery ;  that  an  easy  success  of 


254  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   AND  RE  IV. 

the  North  meant  leaving  slavery  just  where 
we  found  it;  that  the  War  meant,  if  it 
lasted  long  enough  —  their  emancipation. 
The  whites  went  to  war  and  supported  the 
war,  because  they  hoped  to  succeed  in  it; 
since  they  wanted,  or  thought  they  wanted, 
separation  from  the  Union,  or  "  Southern 
Independence."  There  were,  then,  three 
great  interests  —  there  were  the  Southern 
whites,  who  as  a  body,  wished  for  what 
they  called  "  Southern  Independence  " ; 
the  Southern  blacks,  who  desired  emanci 
pation  ;  the  people  of  the  "  loyal  States  " 
who  desired  to  maintain  the  constitutional 
rights  and  the  territorial  integrity  of  the 
Nation.  Some  of  us  in  the  North  had  a 
strong  hope,  which  by  the  favor  of  God 
has  not  been  disappointed,  out  of  our  de 
fence  of  the  Union  to  accomplish  the  deliv 
erance  of  our  fellow-men  in  bondage.  But 
the  "loyal"  idea  included  emancipation, 
not  for  its  own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of 
the  Union — if  the  Union  could  be  saved, 
or  served,  by  it.  There  were  many  men 


VALEDICTORY   ADDRESS,  2$$ 

in  the  South  —  besides  those  known  as 
loyal  —  who  did  not  like  to  incur  the  re 
sponsibility  of  war  against  the  Union ;  or 
who  did  not  think  the  opportune  moment 
had  arrived  to  fight  "  the  North  "  ;  or  in 
whose  hearts  there  was  "  a  divided  allegi 
ance."  But,  they  were  not  the  positive 
men.  They  were,  with  very  few  excep 
tions,  not  the  leading  minds,  the  courage 
ous  men,  the  impressive  and  powerful 
characters,  —  they  were  not  the  young  and 
active  men.  And  when  the  decisive  hour 
came,  they  went  to  the  wall.  No  matter 
what  they  thought,  or  how  they  felt,  about 
it ;  they  could  not  stand  or  they  would  not 
stand  —  certainly  they  did  not  stand, 
against  the  storm.  The  Revolution  either 
converted  them,  or  swept  them  off  their 
feet.  Their  own  sons  volunteered.  They 
became  involved  in  all  the  work  and  in  all 
the  consequences  of  the  war.  The  South 
ern  people  —  as  a  people  —  fought,  toiled, 
endured,  and  persevered,  with  a  courage,  a 
unanimity  and  a  persistency,  not  outdone 


256  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

by  any  people  in  any  Revolution.  There 
was  never  an  acre  of  territory  abandoned 
to  the  Union  while  ft  could  be  held  by 
arms.  There  was  never  a  Rebel  regiment 
surrendered  to  the  Union  arms  until  resist 
ance  was  overcome  by  force;  or  a  surrender 
was  compelled  by  the  stress  of  battle,  or 
of  military  strategy.  The  people  of  the 
South,  men  and  women,  soldiers  and  civil 
ians,  volunteers  and  conscripts,  in  the  army 
and  at  home,  followed  the  fortunes  of  the 
Rebellion  and  obeyed  its  leaders,  so  long 
as  it  had  any  fortunes  or  any  leaders. 
Their  young  men  marched  up  to  the  can 
non's  mouth,  a  thousand  times,  where  they 
were  mowed  down  like  grain  by  the  reapers 
when  the  harvest  is  ripe.  Some  men  had 
the  faculty,  and  the  faith  in  the  Rebel 
cause,  to  become  its  leaders.  The  others 
had  the  faculty  and  the  faith  to  follow 
them. 

All  honor  to  the  loyal  few  !  But  I  do 
not  regard  the  distinction  between  loyal 
and  disloyal  persons  of  the  white  race,  re- 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS. 

siding  in  the  South,  during  the  rebellion, 
as  being,  for  present  purposes,  a  practical 
distinction.  It  is  even  doubtful  whether 
the  comparatively  loyal  few  (with  certain 
prominent  and  honorable  exceptions),  can 
be  well  discriminated  from  the  disloyal 
mass.  And  since  the  President  finds  him 
self  obliged  to  let  in  the  great  mass  of  the 
disloyal,  by  the  very  terms  of  his  proclama 
tion  of  amnesty,  to  a  participation  in  the 
business  of  re-organizing  the  Rebel  States, 
I  am  obliged  also  to  confess  that  I  think 
to  make  one  rule  for  the  richer  and  higher 
rebels,  and  another  rule  for  the  poorer  and 
more  lowly  rebels  is  impolitic  and  unphilo- 
sophical.  I  find  evidence  in  the  granting 
of  pardons,  that  such  also  is  the  opinion  of 
the  President. 

When  the  day  arrives,  which  must  surely 
come,  when  an  amnesty,  substantially  uni 
versal,  shall  be  proclaimed,  the  leading 
minds  of  the  South,  who  by  temporary 
policy  and  artificial  rules  had  been,  for  the 
while,  disfranchised,  will  resume  their  in- 
17 


258  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.    ANDREW. 

fluence  and  their  sway.  The  capacity  of 
leadership  is  a  gift,  not  a  device.  They 
whose  courage,  talents,  and  will  entitle  them 
to  lead,  will  lead.  And  these  men  —  not 
then  estopped  by  their  own  consent  or  par 
ticipation,  in  the  business  of  re-organiza 
tion —  may  not  be  slow  to  question  the 
validity  of  great  public  transactions  enacted 
during  their  own  disfranchisement.  If  it 
is  asked,  in  reply,  "  What  can  they  do  ? " 
and  "What  can  come  of  their  discontent?" 
I  answer,  that  while  I  do  not  know  just 
what  they  can  do,  nor  what  may  come  of 
it,  neither  do  I  know  what  they  may  not 
attempt,  nor  what  they  may  not  accomplish. 
I  only  know  that  we  ought  to  demand,  and 
to  secure,  the  co-operation  of  the  strongest 
and  ablest  minds  and  the  natural  leaders 
of  opinion  in  the  South.  If  we  cannot 
gain  their  support  of  the  just  measures 
needful  for  the  work  of  safe  re-organiza 
tion,  re-organization  will  be  delusive  and 
full  of  danger. 

Why  not  try  them?     They  are  the  most 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  259 

hopeful  subjects  to  deal  with,  in  the  very 
nature  of  the  case.  They  have  the  brain 
and  the  experience  and  the  education  to 
enable  them  to  understand  the  exigencies 
of  the  present  situation.  They  have  the 
courage,  as  well  as  the  skill,  to  lead  the 
people  in  the  direction  their  judgments 
point,  in  spite  of  their  own  and  the  popular 
prejudice.  Weaker  men,  those  of  less  ex 
perience,  who  have  less  hold  on  the  public 
confidence,  are  comparatively  powerless. 
Is  it  consistent  with  reason  and  our  knowl 
edge  of  human  nature,  to  believe  the 
masses  of  Southern  men  able  to  face  about, 
to  turn  their  backs  on  those  they  have 
trusted  and  followed,  and  to  adopt  the  lead 
of  those  who  have  no  magnetic  hold  on 
their  hearts  or  minds  ?  Re-organization  in 
the  South  demands  the  aid  of  men  of  great 
moral  courage,  who  can  renounce  their  own 
past  opinions,  and  do  it  boldly ;  who  can 
comprehend  what  the  work  is,  and  what 
are  the  logical  consequences  of  the  new 
situation  ;  men  who  have  interests  urging 


260  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

them  to  rise  to  the  height  of  the  occasion. 
They  are  not  the  strong  men  from  whom 
weak,  vacillating  counsels  come ;  nor  are 
they  the  great  men  from  whom  come  coun 
sels  born  of  prejudices  and  follies,  having 
their  root  in  an  institution  they  know  to 
be  dead,  and  buried  beyond  the  hope  of 
resurrection. 

Has  it  never  occurred  to  us  all,  that  we 
are  now  proposing  the  most  wonderful  and 
unprecedented  of  human  transactions  ? 
The  conquering  government,  at  the  close 
of  a  great  war,  is  about  restoring  to  the 
conquered  rebels  not  only  their  local  gov 
ernments  in  the  States,  but  their  represen 
tative  share  in  the  general  government  of 
the  country  !  They  are,  in  their  States,  to 
govern  themselves  as  they  did  before  the 
rebellion.  The  conquered  rebels  are,  in 
the  Union,  to  help  govern  and  control  the 
conquering  loyalists ! !  These  being  the 
privileges  which  they  are  to  enjoy,  when 
re-organization  becomes  complete,  I  de 
clare  that  I  know  not  any  safeguard,  pre- 


VALEDICTORY   ADDRESS.  26 1 

caution,  or  act  of  prudence,  which  wise 
statesmanship  might  not  recognize  to  be 
reasonable  and  just.  If  we  have  no  right 
to  demand  guarantees  for  the  future;  if  we 
have  no  right  to  insist  upon  significant 
acts  of  loyal  submission  from  the  rebel 
leaders  themselves ;  if  we  have  no  right  to 
demand  the  positive,  popular  vote  in  favor 
of  the  guarantees  we  need ;  if  we  may  not 
stipulate  for  the  recognition  of  the  just 
rights  of  the  slaves,  whom,  in  the  act  of 
suppressing  the  rebellion,  we  converted 
from  slaves  into  freemen,  then  I  declare 
that  we  had  no  right  to  emancipate  the 
slaves,  nor  to  suppress  the  rebellion. 

It  may  be  asked :  Why  not  demand  the 
suffrage  for  colored  men,  in  season  for 
their  vote  in  the  business  of  re-organiza 
tion  ?  My  answer  is  —  I  assume  that  the 
colored  men  are  in  favor  of  those  measures 
which  the  Union  needs  to  have  adopted. 
But  it  would  be  idle  to  re-organize  those 
States  by  the  colored  vote.  If  the  popular 
vote  of  the  white  race  is  not  to  be  had  in 


262  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

favor  of  the  guarantees  justly  required,  then 
I  am  in  favor  of  holding  on — just  where 
we  now  are.  I  am  not  in  favor  of  a  sur 
render  of  the  present  rights  of  the  Union 
to  a  struggle  between  a  white  minority 
aided  by  the  freedmen  on  the  one  hand, 
against  a  majority  of  the  white  race  on  the 
other.  I  would  not  consent,  having  res 
cued  those  States  by  arms  from  secession 
and  rebellion,  to  turn  them  over  to  anar 
chy  and  chaos.  I  have,  however,  no  doubt 
—  none  whatever  —  of  our  right  to  stipu 
late  for  colored  suffrage.  The  question  is 
one  of  statesmanship,  not  a  question  of 
constitutional  limitation. 

If  it  is  urged  that  the  suffrage  question 
is  one  peculiarly  for  the  States,  I  reply :  so 
also  that  of  the  abolition  of  slavery  ordina 
rily  would  have  been.  But  we  are  not  now 
deciding  what  a  loyal  State,  acting  in  its 
constitutional  sphere,  and  in  its  normal  re 
lations  to  the  Union,  may  do ;  but  what  a 
rebel,  belligerent,  conquered  State  must  do, 
in  order  to  be  re -organized  and  to  get  back 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  263 

into  those  relations.  And  in  deciding  this, 
I  must  repeat  that  we  are  to  be  governed 
only  by  Justice,  Humanity,  the  Public 
Safety,  and  our  duty  to  re-organize  those 
conquered,  belligerent  States,  as  we  can 
and  when  we  can,  consistently  therewith. 

In  dealing  with  those  States,  with  a  view 
to  fulfilling  the  national  guarantee  of  a  re 
publican  form  of  government,  it  is  plain, 
since  the  nation  is  called  upon  to  re-organ 
ize  government,  where  no  loyal  republican 
State  Government  is  in  existence,  that  it 
must,  of  absolute  necessity,  deal  directly 
with  the  People  themselves.  If  a  State 
government  were  menaced  and  in  danger 
of  subversion,  then  the  nation  would  be 
called  upon  to  aid  the  existing  government 
of  the  State  in  sustaining  itself  against  the 
impending  danger.  But  the  present  case 
is  a  different  one.  The  State  Government 
was  subverted  in  each  rebel  State  more 
than  four  years  ago.  The  State,  in  its 
corporate  capacity,  went  into  rebellion ; 
arid  as  long  as  it  had  the  power,  waged 


264  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

and  maintained  against  the  nation  rebel 
lious  war.  There  is  no  government  in 
them  to  deal  with.  But  there  are  the  peo 
ple.  It  is  to  the  people  we  must  go.  It 
is  through  their  people  alone,  and  it  is  in 
their  primary  capacity  alone,  as  people, 
unorganized  and  without  a  government, 
that  the  nation  is  capable  now  of  dealing 
with  them  at  all.  And,  therefore,  the  gov 
ernment  of  the  nation  is  obliged,  by  the 
sheer  necessity  of  the  case,  to  know  who 
are  the  people  of  the  State,  in  the  sense  of 
the  National  Constitution,  in  order  to  know 
how  to  reach  them.  Congress,  discerning 
new  people,  with  new  rights,  and  new 
duties  and  new  interests  (of  the  nation  it 
self  even),  springing  from  them,  may  right 
fully  stipulate  in  their  behalf.  If  Congress 
perceives  that  it  cannot  fulfil  its  guarantee 
to  all  the  people  of  a  State,  without  such  a 
stipulation,  then  it  not  only  may,  but  it 
ought  to,  require  and  secure  it.  The  guar 
antee  is  one  concerning  all,  not  merely  a 
part  of  the  People.  And,  though  the  gov- 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  26$ 

ernment  of  a  State  might  be  of  republican 
form,  and  yet  not  enfranchise  its  colored 
citizens ;  still  the  substance  and  equity  of 
the  guarantee  would  be  violated,  if,  in  ad 
dition  to  their  non-enfranchisement,  the 
colored  people  should  be  compelled  to 
share  the  burdens  of  a  State  government, 
the  benefits  of  which  would  enure  to  other 
classes,  —  to  their  own  exclusion.  A  re 
publican  form  of  government  is  not  of 
necessity  just  and  good.  Nor  is  another 
form,  of  necessity,  unjust  and  bad.  A 
monarch  may  be  humane,  thoughtful  and 
just  to  every  class  and  to  every  man.  A 
republic  may  be  inhumane,  regardless  of, 
and  unjust  to,  some  of  its  subjects.  Our 
National  government  and  most  of  the  State 
governments  were  so,  to  those  whom  they 
treated  as  slaves,  or  whose  servitude  they 
aggravated  by  their  legislation  in  the  in 
terest  of  Slavery.  The  Nation  cannot 
hereafter  pretend  that  it  has  kept  its 
promise  and  fulfilled  its  guarantee,  when 
it  shall  have  only  organized  governments 


266  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

of  republican  form,  unless  it  can  look  all 
the  people  in  the  face,  and  declare  that  it 
has  kept  its  promise  with  them  all.  The 
voting  class  alone  —  those  who  possessed 
the  franchise  under  the  State  Constitutions 
—  were  not  the  People.  They  never  were 
THE  PEOPLE.  They  are  not  now.  They 
were  simply  the  Trustees  of  a  certain 
power,  for  the  benefit  of  all  the  people, 
and  not  merely  for  their  own  advantage. 
The  nation  does  not  fulfil  its  guarantee  by 
dealing  with  them  alone.  It  may  deal 
through  them,  with  the  people.  It  may 
accept  their  action  as  satisfactory,  in  its 
discretion.  But,  no  matter  who  may  be 
the  agents,  through  whom  the  nation 
reaches  and  deals  with  the  people,  that 
guaranty  of  the  National  Constitution  is 
fatally  violated,  unless  the  nation  secures 
to  all  the  people  of  those  disorganized 
States  the  substantial  benefits  and  advan 
tages  of  A  GOVERNMENT.  We  cannot  hide 
behind  a  word.  We  cannot  be  content 
with  the  "form"  The  substance  bargained 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  267 

for  is  a  Government.  The  "  form  "  is  also 
bargained  for,  but  that  is  only  an  incident. 
The  people,  and  all  the  people  alike,  must 
have  and  enjoy  the  benefits  and  advantages 
of  a  government \  for  the  common  good,  the 
just  and  equal  protection  of  each  and  all. 

But,  What  of  the  policy  of  the  Presi 
dent  ?  I  am  not  able  to  consider  his  future 
policy.  It  is  undisclosed.  He  seems  to 
me  to  have  left  to  Congress  alone  the  ques 
tions  controlling  the  conditions  on  which 
the  rebel  States  shall  resume  their  repre 
sentative  power  in  the  Federal  Govern 
ment.  It  was  not  incumbent  on  the  Presi 
dent  to  do  otherwise.  He  naturally  leaves 
the  duty  of  theoretical  reasoning  to  those 
whose  responsibility  it  is  to  reach  the  just 
practical  conclusion.  Thus  far  the  Presi 
dent  has  simply  used,  according  to  his 
proper  discretion,  the  power  of  commander- 
in-chief.  What  method  he  should  observe 
was  a  question  of  discretion  ;  in  the  ab 
sence  of  any  positive  law,  to  be  answered 
by  himself.  He  might  have  assumed,  in 


268  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

the  absence  of  positive  law  —  during  the 
process  of  re-organization  —  purely  mili 
tary  methods.  Had  that  been  needful,  it 
would  have  been  appropriate.  If  not  nec 
essary,  then  it  would  have  been  unjust  and 
injurious.  It  is  not  just  to  oppress  even 
an  enemy,  merely  because  we  have  the 
power.  In  a  case  like  the  present,  it  would 
be  extremely  impolitic,  and  injurious  to 
the  nation  itself.  Bear  in  mind,  ours  is  not 
a  conquest  by  barbarians,  nor  by  despots ; 
but  by  Christians  and  republicans.  The 
commander-in-chief  was  bound  to  govern 
with  a  view  to  promoting  the  true  restora 
tion  of  the  power  of  the  Union,  as  I  at 
tempted  to  describe  it  in  the  beginning  of 
this  address ;  not  merely  with  a  view  to 
the  present,  immediate  control  of  the  daily 
conduct  of  the  people.  He  deemed  it  wise, 
therefore,  to  resort  to  the  democratic  prin 
ciple,  to  use  the  analogies  of  republicanism 
and  of  constitutional  liberty.  He  had  the 
power  to  govern  through  magistrates,  under 
military  or  under  civil  titles.  He  could 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  269 

employ  the  agencies  of  popular  and  of  rep 
resentative  assemblies.  Their  authority 
has  its  source,  however,  in  his  own  war 
powers  as  commander-in-chief.  If  the 
peace  of  society,  the  rights  of  the  govern 
ment,  and  of  all  its  subjects,  are  duly  main 
tained,  then  the  method  may  justify  itself 
by  its  success  as  well  as  its  intention.  If 
he  has  assisted  the  people  to  re-organize 
their  legislatures,  and  to  re-establish  the 
machinery  of  local  State  government ; 
though  his  method  may  be  less  regular 
than  if  an  act  of  Congress  had  prescribed 
it,  still,  it  has  permitted  the  people  to  feel 
their  way  back  into  the  works  and  ways  of 
loyalty,  to  exhibit  their  temper  of  mind, 
and  to  "  show  their  hands."  Was  it  not 
better  for  the  cause  of  free  government,  of 
civil  liberty,  to  incur  the  risk  of  error  in 
that  direction,  than  of  error  in  the  opposite 
one  ?  It  has  proved  that  the  national  gov 
ernment  is  not  drunk  with  power;  that  its 
four  years'  exercise  of  the  dangerous  rights 
of  war  has  not  affected  its  brain.  It  has 


2/0  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

shown  that  the  danger  of  despotic  central 
ism,  or  of  central  despotism,  is  safely  over. 

Meanwhile,  notwithstanding  the  trans 
mission  of  the  seals  to  State  magistrates 
chosen  by  vote  in  the  States  themselves ; 
notwithstanding  the  inauguration,  in  fact, 
of  local  legislatures,  the  powers  of  war  re 
main.  The  commander-in-chief  has  not 
abdicated.  His  generals  continue  in  the 
field.  They  still  exercise  military  func 
tions,  according  to  the  belligerent  rights  of 
the  nation.  What  the  commander-in-chief 
may  hereafter  do,  whether  less  or  more, 
depends,  I  presume,  in  great  measure  on 
what  the  people  of  the  rebel  States  may 
do  or  forbear  doing.  I  assume  that, 
until  the  executive  and  legislative  de 
partments  of  the  national  governments 
shall  have  reached  the  united  conclusion 
that  the  objects  of  the  war  have  been 
fully  accomplished,  the  national  declaration 
of  peace  is  not,  and  cannot  be  made. 

The  proceedings  already  had,  are  only 
certain  acts  in  the  great  drama  of  Re- 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  2Jl 

organization.  They  do  not  go  for  noth 
ing;  they  were  not  unnecessary;  nor  do 
I  approach  them  with  criticism.  But  they 
are  not  the  whole  drama.  Other  acts  are 
required  for  its  completion.  What  they 
shall  be,  depends  in  part  on  the  wisdom  of 
Congress  to  determine. 

The  doctrine  of  the  President  that  —  in 
the  steps-  preliminary  to  re-organizing  a 
State  which  is  not,  and  has  not  been  theo 
retically  cut  off  from  the  Union  —  he  must 
recognize  its  own  organic  law,  antecedent 
to  the  rebellion,  need  not  be  contested.  I 
adhere,  quite  as  strictly  as  he,  to  the  logi 
cal  consequences  of  that  doctrine.  I  agree 
that  the  Rebel  States  ought  to  come  back 
again  into  the  exercise  of  their  State  func 
tions  and  the  enjoyment  of  their  represen 
tative  power  —  by  the  action  and  by  the 
votes,  of  the  same  class  of  persons,  namely, 
the  same  body  of  voters,  or  tenants  of 
political  rights  and  privileges,  by  the  votes, 
action  or  submission  of  whom,  those  States 
were  carried  into  the  rebellion. 


2/2  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.  ANDREW. 

But,  yet,  it  may  be,  at  the  same  time, 
needful  and  proper,  in  the  sense  of  wise 
statesmanship,  to  require  of  them  the  am 
plification  of  certain  privileges,  the  recog 
nition  of  certain  rights,  the  establishment 
of  certain  institutions,  the  re-distribution 
even  of  political  power — to  be  by  them 
accorded  and  executed  through  constitu 
tional  amendments,  or  otherwise  —  as  ele 
ments  of  acceptable  re-organization ;  and 
as  necessary  to  the  re-adjustment  of  po 
litical  society  in  harmony  with  the  new 
relations,  and  the  new  basis  of  universal 
freedom,  resulting  from  the  Rebellion 
itself.  If  these  things  are  found  to  be 
required  by  wise  statesmanship,  then  the 
right  to  exact  them,  as  conditions  of  re 
storing  those  States  to  the  enjoyment  of 
their  normal  functions,  is  to  be  found,  just 
where  the  Nation  found  the  right  to  crush 
the  Rebellion  and  the  incidental  right  of 
emancipating  Slaves. 

Now,  distinctions  between  men,  as  to 
their  rights,  purely  arbitrary,  and  not 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  2/3 

founded  in  reason,  nor  in  the  nature  of 
things,  are  not  wise,  statesmanlike,  nor 
"  Republican,"  in  the  constitutional  sense. 
If  they  ever  are  wise  and  statesmanlike, 
they  become  so,  only  where  oligarchies, 
privileged  orders  and  hereditary  aristocra 
cies  are  wise  and  expedient. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  Republican 
government,  however,  known  to  political 
science,  viz. :  Aristocratic  Republics  and 
Democratic  Republics,  or  those  in  which 
the  government  resides  with  a  few  persons, 
or  with  a  privileged  body,  and  those  in 
which  it  is  the  government  of  the  People. 
I  cannot  doubt  that  nearly  all  men  are 
prepared  to  admit  that  our  governments  — 
both  State  and  National  —  are  constitu 
tionally  democratic,  representative  repub 
lics.  That  theory  of  government  is  ex 
pressly  set  forth  in  the  Declaration  of 
Independence.  The  popular  theory  of 
government  is  again  declared  in  the  pre 
amble  to  the  Federal  Constitution.  The 
Federal  government  is  elaborately  con- 

18 


2/4  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

structed  according  to  the  theory  of  popu 
lar  and  representative  government,  and 
against  the  aristocratic  theory,  in  its 
distinguishing  features.  And,  in  divers 
places,  the  Federal  Constitution,  in  set 
terms,  presupposes  the  democratic  and 
representative  character  of  the  govern 
ments  of  the  States ;  for  examples,  by 
assuming  that  they  have  legislatures,  that 
their  legislatures  are  composed  of  more 
than  one  body,  and  by  aiming  to  prevent 
even  all  appearance  of  aristocratic  form, 
by  prohibiting  the  States  from  granting 
any  title  of  nobility.  In  his  recent  mes 
sage  to  Congress,  President  JOHNSON 
affirms  "  the  great  distinguishing  principle 
of  the  recognition  of  the  rights  of  man" 
as  the  fundamental  idea,  in  all  our  govern 
ments.  "  The  American  system,"  he  adds, 
in  the  same  paragraph,  "  rests  on  the  asser 
tion  of  the  equal  right  of  every  man  to  life, 
liberty  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness,  to 
freedom  of  conscience,  to  the  culture  and 
exercise  of  all  his  faculties." 


VALEDICTORY   ADDRESS.  2~$ 

But,  is  it  pretended  that  the  idea  of  a 
government  of  the  People,  and  for  the 
People,  in  the  American  sense,  is  inclusive 
of  the  white  race  only,  or  is  exclusive  of 
men  of  African  descent  ?  On  what  ground 
can  the  position  rest? 

The  citizenship  of  free  men  of  color, 
even  in  those  States  where  no  provision  of 
law  seemed  to  include  them  in  the  cate 
gory  of  voters,  has  been  frequently  dem 
onstrated,  not  only  as  a  legal  right,  but  as 
a  right  asserted  and  enjoyed. 

Nay  more ;  both  under  the  confedera 
tion,  and  in  the  time  of  the  adoption  of  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  all  free 
native  born  inhabitants  of  the  States 
of  New  Hampshire,  Massachusetts,  New 
York,  New  Jersey,  and  North  Carolina, 
though  descended  from  African  slaves, 
were  not  only  citizens  of  those  States,  but 
such  of  them  as  had  the  other  necessary 
qualifications,  possessed  the  franchise  of 
Electors  on  equal  terms  with  other  citizens. 
And  even  Virginia  declares,  in  her  ancient 


276  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

Bill  of  Rights,  "that  all  men  having 
sufficient  evidence  of  permanent  common 
interest  with,  and  attachment  to  the  com 
munity,  have  the  right  of  suffrage." 
Wherever  free  colored  men  were  recog 
nized  as  free  citizens  or  subjects,  but  were, 
nevertheless,  not  fully  enfranchised,  I  think 
the  explanation  is  found,  not  in  the  fact  of 
their  mere  color  nor  of  their  antecedent 
servitude,  but  in  the  idea  of  their  possible 
lapse  into  servitude  again  —  of  which  con 
dition  their  color  was  a  badge  and  a  con 
tinuing  presumption.  The  policy  of  some 
States  seems  to  have  demanded  that 
Slavery  should  be  the  prevailing  condition 
of  all  their  inhabitants  of  African  descent. 
In  those  States,  the  possession  of  freedom 
by  a  colored  man  has  therefore  been 
treated  as  if  that  condition  was  only  ex 
ceptional  and  transient.  But,  wherever 
the  policy  and  legislation  of  a  State  were 
originally  dictated  by  men  who  saw 
through  the  confusion  of  ideas  occasioned 
by  the  presence  of  Slavery,  there  we  are 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS. 

enabled  to  discern  the  evidence  of  an  un 
clouded  purpose  (with  which  the  American 
mind  always  intended  to  be  consistent), 
viz. :  The  maintenance  of  equality  between 
free  citizens  concerning  civil  RIGHTS,  and 
the  distribution  of  PRIVILEGES,  according  to 
capacity  and  desert,  and  not  according  to 
the  accidents  of  birth.  And  now  that 
Slavery  has  been  rendered  for  ever  im 
possible  within  any  State  or  Territory  of 
the  Union,  by  framing  the  great  natural 
law  of  Universal  Freedom  into  the  organic 
Law  of  the  Union,  all  the  ancient  disa 
bilities  which  Slavery  had  made  appar 
ently  attendant  on  African  descent,  must 
disappear. 

Whatever  may  be  the  rules  regulating 
the  distribution  of  political  power  among 
free  citizens,  in  the  organization  of  such  a 
republican  government  as  that  guaranteed 
by  the  National  Constitution,  descent  is 
neither /the  evidence  of  right,  nor  the 
ground  of  disfranchisement. 

The  selection  of  a  fraction  or  class,  of 


2/8  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

the  great  body  of  freemen  in  the  Civil 
State,  to  be  permanently  invested  with  its 
entire  political  power  —  (selected  by  mere 
human  predestination,  irrespective  of  merit) 
—  that  power  to  be  incommunicable  to  the 
freemen  of  another  class  —  the  two  classes, 
of  rulers  and  ruled,  governors  and  gov 
erned,  to  be  determined  by  the  accident  of 
birth,  and  all  the  consequences  of  that  ac 
cident  to  descend  by  generation  to  their 
children  —  seems  to  me  to  be  the  estab 
lishment  of  an  hereditary  aristocracy  of 
birth,  the  creation  of  a  privileged  order, 
inconsistent  both  with  the  substance  and 
the  essential  form  of  American  republican 
ism,  unstatesmanlike  and  unwise  ;  and  (in 
the  rebel  States),  in  every  sense,  dangerous 
and  unjust. 

To  demand  a  certain  qualification  of 
intelligence  is  eminently  safe,  and  consists 
with  the  interests  and  rights  of  all.  It 
is  as  reasonable  as  to  require  a  certain 
maturity  of  age.  They  who  are  the  rep 
resentatives  of  the  political  power  of 


VALE  DIG  TOR  Y  A  DDR  ESS.  2  79 

society,  acting  not  only  for  themselves,  but 
also  for  the  women  and  children,  who  too 
belong  to  it;  representing  the  interests  of 
the  wives,  mothers,  sisters,  daughters,  in 
fant  sons,  and  the  posterity  of  us  all,  ought 
to  constitute  an  audience  reasonably  com 
petent  to  hear.  And,  since  the  congrega 
tion  of  American  Voters  is  numbered  by 
millions,  and  covers  a  continent,  it  cannot 
hear  with  its  ears  all  that  it  needs  to  know ; 
but  must  learn  intelligently  much  that  it 
needs  to  know,  through  the  printed  page 
and  by  means  of  its  eyes.  The  protec 
tion  of  the  mass  of  men  against  the  de 
ceptions  of  local,  demagogues,  and  against 
their  own  prejudices  hereafter — as  well 
as  the  common  safety  —  calls  for  the  re 
quirement  of  the  capacity  to  read  the 
mother  tongue,  as  a  condition  of  coming 
for  the  first  time  to  the  ballot-box.  Let 
this  be  required  at  the  South,  and  immedi 
ately  the  whole  Southern  community  will 
be  aroused  to  the  absolute  necessity  of 
demanding  free  schools  and  popular  edu- 


280  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

cation.  These  are,  more  than  all  things 
else,  to  be  coveted,  both  for  the  preserva 
tion  of  public  liberty,  and  for  the  tem 
poral  salvation  of  the  toiling  masses,  of 
our  own  Saxon  and  Norman  blood,  whom 
alike  with  the  African  slave,  the  oppres 
sion  of  ages  has  involved  in  a  common 
disaster. 

I  think  the  wisest  and  most  intelligent 
persons  in  the  South  are  not  ignorant  of 
the  importance  of  raising  the  standard  of 
intelligence  among  voters ;  nor  of  extend 
ing  the  right  to  vote,  so  as  to  include  those 
who  are  of  competent  intellect,  notwith 
standing  the  recent  disability  of  color. 
There  is  evidence  that  they  are  not  un 
willing  to  act  consistently  with  the  under 
standing,  example,  and  constitutional  pre 
cedents  of  the  fathers  of  the  Republic ; 
consistently  with  the  ancient  practice  of 
the  States,  coeval  with  the  organic  law  of 
the  nation,  established  by  the  very  men 
who  made  that  law,  who  used  and  adopted 
the  very  phrase,  "a  republican  form  of 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  28 1 

government,"  of  the  meaning  of  which 
their  own  practice  was  a  contemporary 
interpretation.  But  if  the  conquering 
power  of  the  nation,  if  the  victorious  arm 
of  the  Union  is  paralyzed ;  if  the  federal 
government,  standing  behind  the  ramparts 
of  defensive  war,  wielding  its  weapons, 
both  of  offence  in  the  hour  oif  struggle, 
and  of  diplomacy  in  the  hour  of  triumph, 
is  utterly  powerless  to  stipulate  for  the 
execution  of  this  condition ;  then  I  confess 
I  do  not  know  how  the  best  and  wisest  in 
the  South  will  be  enabled,  deserted  and 
alone,  to  stand  up  on  its  behalf,  against  the 
jealousy  of  ignorance  and  the  traditions  of 
prejudice. 

If  the  measures  I  have  attempted  to 
delineate  are  found  to  be  impracticable, 
then  Congress  has  still  the  right  to  refuse 
to  the  Rebel  States  re- admission  to  the 
enjoyment  of  their  representative  power, 
until  amendments  to  the  Federal  Constitu 
tion  shall  have  been  obtained  adequate  to 
the  exigency.  Nor  can  the  people  of  the 


282  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

rebel  States  object  to  the  delay.  They 
voluntarily  withdrew  from  Congress ;  they 
themselves  elected  the  attitude  of  disunion. 
They  broke  the  agreements  of  the  consti 
tution  :  not  we.  They  chose  their  own 
time,  opportunity  and  occasion  to  make 
war  on  the  Nation,  and  to  repudiate  the 
Union.  They  certainly  cannot  now  dic 
tate  to  us  the  time  nor  the  terms.  Again, 
I  repeat,  the  just  discretion  of  the  nation 
—  exercised  in  good  faith  towards  all  — 
must  govern. 

The  Federal  Union  was  formed,  first  of 
all,  "to  establish  justice?  "  JUSTICE,"  in 
the  language  of  statesmen  and  of  jurists, 
has  had  a  definition,  for  more  than  two 
thousand  years,  exact,  perfect,  and  well 
understood. 

It  is  found  in  the  Institutes  of  Jus 
tinian, — 

"  Constans   et  perpetua  voluntas,  jus   suum  cuique  tri- 

buendi." 
"The  constant  and  perpetual  will  to  secure  TO  EVERY 

MAN    HIS   OWN   RIGHT." 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  283 

I  believe   I   have  shown  that  under  our 
federal  Constitution,  — 

1.  All  the   people    of   the    rebel  States 
must  share  in   the  benefits  to  be   derived 
from  the  execution  of  the  national  guaran 
tee  of  republican  governments. 

2.  That   our  "  republican  form   of   gov 
ernment  "  demands   "  The  maintenance  of 
equality    between   free    citizens    concerning 
civil  RIGHTS,  and  the  distribution  of  PRIVI 
LEGES,  according  to  capacity  and  desert,  and 
not  according  to  the  accidents  of  birth? 

3.  That    people    "  of  African    descent," 
not  less  than  people  of  the  white  race,  are 
included  within  the  category  of  free  sub 
jects  and  citizens  of  the  United  States. 

4.  That,  in  the  distribution  of  political 
power,    under    our   form    of    government, 
"  DESCENT    is  neither  the  evidence  of  right, 
nor   the  ground  of  disfranchisement"    so 
that 

5.  The  disfranchisement  of  free  citizens, 
for  the  cause  of  "  descent''  or  for  any  reason 
other  than    lawful    disqualification,  as   by 


284  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

non-residence,  immaturity,  crime,  or  want 
of  intelligence,  violates  their  constitutional 
rights. 

6.  That,  in  executing  our  national  guar 
antee   of    republican    government   to   the 
people  of  the  rebel  States,  we  must  secure 
the  constitutional,  civic  liberties  and  fran 
chises  of  all  the  people. 

7.  That  we  have    no   right  to  omit  to 
secure  to  the   new  citizens,  made  free  by 
the  Union,  in  war,  their  equality  of  rights 
before    the    law,    and    their   franchises   of 
every  sort  —  including  the  electoral  fran 
chise  —  according  to  laws  and  regulations, 
of  universal,  and  not  of  unequal  and  capri 
cious,  application. 

We  have  no  right  to  evade  our  own 
duty.  We  must  not,  by  substituting  a 
new  basis  for  the  apportionment  of  repre 
sentatives  in  Congress,  give  up  the  just 
rights  of  these  citizens.  Increasing  the 
proportion  of  the  political  power  of  the 
loyal  States,  at  the  expense  of  the  disloyal 
States,  by  adopting  their  relative  numbers 


VALEDICTORY   ADDRESS.  285 

of  legal  voters,  instead  of  their  relative 
populations  —  while  it  might  punish  some 
States  for  not  according  the  suffrage  to 
colored  men  —  would  not  be  justice  to  the 
colored  citizen.  For  justice  demands,  "for 
every  man  HIS  OWN  right? 

Will  it  be  said  that,  by  such  means,  we 
shall  strengthen  our  own  power  in  the 
loyal  States,  to  protect  the  colored  people 
in  the  South  ?  If  we  will  not  yield  to 
them  justice  now,  on  what  ground  do  we 
expect  grace  to  give  them  "protection " 
hereafter  ? 

You  will  have  compromised  for  a  con 
sideration —  paid  in  an  increase  of  your 
own  political  power  —  your  right  to  urge 
their  voluntary  enfranchisement  on  the 
white  men  of  the  South.  You  will  have 
bribed  all  the  elements  of  political  sel 
fishness,  in  the  whole  country,  to  com 
bine  against  negro  enfranchisement.  The 
States  of  the  rebellion  will  have  no  less 
power  than  ever  in  the  Senate.  And  the 
men  who  hold  the  privilege  of  electing 


286  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

representatives  to  the  lower  house,  will 
retain  their  privilege.  For  the  sake  of 
doubling  the  delegation  from  South  Caro 
lina,  do  you  suppose  the  monopoly  of 
choosing  three  members  would  be  surren 
dered  by  the  whites,  giving  to  the  colored 
men  the  chance  to  choose  six  ?  Nay :  — 
Would  the  monopolists  gain  any  thing  by 
according  the  suffrage  to  the  colored  man ; 
if  they  could  themselves  only  retain  the 
power  to  dictate  three  representatives,  and 
the  colored  people  should  dictate  the 
selection  of  the  other  three  ? 

The  scheme  to  substitute  legal  voters, 
instead  of  population,  as  the  basis  of  rep 
resentation  in  Congress,  will  prove  a  delu 
sion  and  a  snare.  By  diminishing  the 
representative  power  of  the  Southern 
States,  in  favor  of  other  States,  you  will 
not  increase  Southern  love  for  the  Union. 
Nor,  while  Connecticut  and  Wisconsin 
refuse  the  suffrage  to  men  of  color,  will 
you  be  able  to  convince  the  South  that 
your  amendment  was  dictated  by  political 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  287 

principle,  and  not  by  political  cupidity. 
You  will  not  diminish  any  honest  appre- 
hension  at  extending  the  suffrage,  but  you 
will  inflame  every  prejudice,  and  aggravate 
discontent.  Meanwhile,  the  disfranchised 
freedman,  hated  by  some  because  he  is 
black,  contemned  by  some  because  he  has 
been  a  slave,  feared  by  some  because  of 
the  antagonisms  of  society,  is  condemned 
to  the  condition  of  a  hopeless  pariah  of 
a  merciless  civilization.  In  the  commu 
nity,  he  is  not  of  it.  He  neither  belongs 
to  a  master,  nor  to  society.  Bodily  pres 
ent  in  the  midst  of  the  society  compos 
ing  the  State,  he  adds  nothing  to  its 
weight  in  the  political  balance  of  the  na 
tion  ;  and  therefore,  he  stands  in  the  way, 
occupies  the  room  and  takes  the  place, 
which  might  be  enjoyed  as  opportunities 
by  a  white  immigrant,  who  would  contrib 
ute  by  his  presence  to  its  representative 
power.  Your  policy  would  inflame  ani 
mosity  and  aggravate  oppression,  for  at 
least  the  lifetime  of  a  generation,  before 


288  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

it   would   open    the   door  to    enfranchise 
ment. 

Civil    society  is   not  an  aggregation  of4 
individuals.      According   to   the   order   of 
nature,  and  of  the  Divine  economy,  it  is 
an  aggregation  of  families. 

The  adult  males  of  the  family  vote; 
because  the  welfare  of  the  women  and 
children  of  the  family  is  identical  with 
theirs ;  and  it  is  intrusted  to  their  affection 
and  fidelity,  whether  at  the  ballot-box  or 
on  the  battle-field.  But,  while  the  voting 
men  of  a  given  community  represent  the 
welfare  of  its  women  and  children,  they  do 
not  represent  that  of  another  community. 
The  men,  women  and  children  of  Massa 
chusetts,  are  alike  concerned  in  the  ideas 
and  interests  of  Massachusetts.  But,  the 
very  theory  of  representation  implies  that 
the  ideas  and  interests  of  one  State  are  not 
identical  with  those  of  another.  On  what 
ground,  then,  can  a  State  on  the  Pacific,  or 
the  Ohio,  gain  preponderance  in  Congress 
over  New  Jersey  or  Massachusetts  by 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  289 

reason  of  its  greater  number  of  males, 
while  it  may  have  even  a  less  number  of 
people  ?  The  halls  of  legislation  are  the 
arenas  of  debate,  not  of  muscular  prowess. 
The  intelligence,  the  opinions,  the  wishes, 
and  the  influence  of  women,  social  and 
domestic,  stand  for  something  —  for  much 
—  in  the  public  affairs  of  civilized  and 
refined  society.  I  deny  the  just  right  of 
the  Government  to  banish  woman  from 
the  count.  She  may  not  vote,  but  she 
thinks ;  she  persuades  her  husband ;  she 
instructs  her  son.  And,  through  them,  at 
least,  she  has  a  right  to  be  heard  in  the 
government.  Her  existence,  and  the  ex 
istence  of  her  children,  are  to  be  con 
sidered  in  the  State. 

No  matter  who  changes ;  let  Massachu 
setts,  at  least,  stand  by  all  the  fundamental 
principles  of  free,  constitutional,  republican 
government. 

The  President  is  the  tribune  of  the  Peo 
ple.  Let  him  be  chosen  directly  by  the 
popular  election.  The  Senate  represents 

'9 


290  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

the  reserved  rights  and  the  equality  of  the 
States.  Let  the  Senators  continue  to  be 
chosen  by  the  Legislatures  of  the  States. 
The  House  represents  the  opinions,  inter 
ests,  and  the  equality  of  the  People  of  each 
and  every  State.  Let  the  people  of  the 
respective  States  elect  their  representa 
tives,  in  numbers  proportional  to  the  num 
bers  of  their  people.  And  let  the  legal 
qualifications  of  the  voters,  in  the  election 
of  President,  Vice-President,  and  Repre 
sentatives  in  Congress,  be  fixed  by  a  uni 
form,  equal,  democratic,  constitutional  rule, 
of  universal  application.  Let  this  fran 
chise  be  enjoyed  "according  to  capacity 
and  desert,  and  not  according  to  the  acci 
dents  of  birth" 

Congress  may,  and  ought,  to  initiate  an 
amendment  granting  the  right  to  vote  for 
President,  Vice-President  and  Representa 
tives  in  Congress,  to  colored  men,  in  all 
the  States,  being  citizens  and  able  to  read, 
who  would  by  the  laws  of  the  States  where 
they  reside,  be  competent  to  vote  if  they 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  2QI 

were  white.  Without  disfranchising  exist 
ing  voters,  it  should  apply  the  qualification 
to  white  men  also.  And,  the  amendment 
ought  to  leave  the  election  of  President 
and  Vice-President  directly  in  the  hands  of 
the  People,  without  the  intervention  of 
electoral  colleges.  Then  the  poorest,  hum 
blest  and  most  despised  men,  being  citi 
zens  and  competent  to  read,  and  thus 
competent,  with  reasonable  intelligence, 
to  represent  others,  would  find  audience 
through  the  ballot-box.  The  President, 
who  is  the  Grand  Tribune  of  all  the  Peo 
ple,  and  the  direct  delegates  of  the  People 
in  the  popular  branch  of  the  National 
Legislature,  would  feel  their  influence. 
This  amendment  would  give  efficiency  to 
the  one  already  adopted,  abolishing  Slavery 
throughout  the  Union.  The  two  amend 
ments  taken  together,  would  practically 
accomplish,  or  enable  Congress  to  fulfil, 
the  whole  duty  of  the  nation  to  those  who 
are  now  its  dependent  wards. 

I  am  satisfied  that  the  mass  of  thinking 


MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

men  at  the  South  accept  the  present  con 
dition  of  things  in  good  faith ;  and  I  am 
also  satisfied  that  with  the  support  of  a 
firm  policy  from  the  President  and  Con 
gress,  in  aid  of  the  efforts  of  their  good 
faith,  and  with  the  help  of  a  conciliatory 
and  generous  disposition  on  the  part  of  the 
North  —  especially  on  the  part  of  those 
States  most  identified  with  the  plan  of 
emancipation  —  the  measures  needed  for 
permanent  and  universal  welfare  can 
surely  be  obtained.  There  ought  now  to 
be  a  vigorous  prosecution  of  the  Peace,  — 
just  as  vigorous  as  our  recent  prosecution 
of  the  War.  We  ought  to  extend  our 
hands  with  cordial  good-will  to  meet  the 
proffered  hands  of  the  South;  demanding 
no  attitude  of  humiliation  from  any ;  in 
flicting  no  acts  of  humiliation  upon  any ; 
respecting  the  feelings  of  the  conquered  — 
notwithstanding  the  question  of  right  and 
wrong,  between  the  parties  belligerent. 
We  ought,  by  all  the  means  and  instru 
mentalities  of  peace,  and  by  all  the  thrifty 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS,  293 

methods  of  industry ;  by  all  the  re -creative 
agencies  of  education  and  religion,  to  help 
rebuild  the  waste  places,  and  restore  order, 
society,  prosperity.  Without  industry  and 
business  there  can  be  no  progress.  In 
their  absence,  civilized  man  even  recedes 
towards  barbarism.  Let  Massachusetts 
bear  in  mind  the  not  unnatural  suspicion 
which  the  past  has  engendered.  I  trust 
she  is  able,  filled  with  emotions  of  bound 
less  joy,  and  gratitude  to  Almighty  God, 
who  has  given  such  Victory  and  such 
Honor  to  the  Right,  to  exercise  faith  in 
his  goodness,  without  vain  glory,  and  to 
exercise  charity,  without  weakness,  towards 
those  who  have  held  the  attitude  of  her 
enemies. 

The  offence  of  War  has  met  its  appro 
priate  punishment  by  the  hand  of  War. 

In  this  hour  of  Triumph,  honor  and 
religion  alike  forbid  one  act,  one  word,  of 
vengeance  or  resentment.  Patriotism  and 
Christianity  unite  the  arguments  of  earthly 
welfare,  and  the  motives  of  Heavenly  in- 


2Q4  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.  ANDREW. 

spiration,  to  persuade  us  to  put  off  all 
jealousy  and  all  fear,  and  to  move  forward 
as  citizens  and  as  men,  in  the  work  of 
social  and  economic  re-organization  —  each 
one  doing  with  his  might  whatever  his 
hand  findeth  to  do. 

We  might  wish  it  were  possible  for 
Massachusetts  justly  to  avoid  her  part  in 
the  work  of  political  re-organization.  But, 
in  spite  of  whatever  misunderstanding  of 
her  purpose  or  character,  she  must  abide 
her  destiny.  She  is  a  part  of  the  Nation. 
The  Nation,  for  its  own  ends,  and  its  own 
advantage,  as  a  measure  of  war,  took  out 
of  the  hands  of  the  masters  their  slaves. 
It  holds  them,  therefore,  in  its  hands,  as 
freedmen.  It  must  place  them  somewhere. 
It  must  dispose  of  them  somehow.  It  can 
not  delegate  the  trust.  It  has  no  right  to 
drop  them,  to  desert  them.  For  by  its 
own  voluntary  act,  it  assumed  their  guar 
dianship,  and  all  its  attendant  responsibili 
ties,  before  the  present  generation,  and  all 
the  coming  generations,  of  mankind.  I 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  295 

know  not  how  well,  nor  how  ill,  they  might 
be  treated  by  the  people  of  the  States 
where  they  reside.  I  only  know  that  there 
is  a  point  beyond  which  the  Nation  has  no 
right  to  incur  any  hazard.  And  while  the 
fidelity  of  the  Nation  need  not  abridge  the 
humanity  of  the  States  ;  on  the  other  hand 
our  confidence  in  those  States  cannot  be 
pleaded  before  the  bar  of  God,  nor  of  his 
tory,  in  defence  of  any  neglect  of  our  own 
duty. 

Let  their  people  remember  that  Massa 
chusetts  has  never  deceived  them.  To  her 
ideas  of  duty  and  her  theory  of  the  Gov 
ernment,  she  has  been  faithful.  If  they 
were  ever  misled  or  betrayed  by  others 
into  the  snare  of  attempted  secession,  and 
the  risks  of  war,  her  trumpet  at  least  gave 
no  uncertain  sound.  She  has  fulfilled  her 
engagements  in  the  past,  and  she  intends 
to  fulfil  them  in  the  future.  She  knows 
that  the  re-organization  of  the  States  in 
rebellion  carries  with  it  consequences, 
which  come  home  to  the  firesides  and  the 


296  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.   ANDREW. 

consciences  of  her  own  children.  For,  as 
citizens  of  the  Union,  they  become  liable 
to  assume  the  defence  of  those  govern 
ments,  when  re-organized,  against  every 
menace,  whether  of  foreign  invasion  or  of 
domestic  violence.  Her  bayonets  may  be 
invoked  to  put  down  insurgents  of  what 
ever  color;  and  whatever  the  cause, 
whether  rightful  or  wrongful,  which  may 
have  moved  their  discontent.  And,  when 
they  are  called  for,  they  will  march.  If 
she  were  capable  of  evading  her  duty  now, 
she  would  be  capable  of  violating  her  obli 
gations  hereafter.  If  she  is  anxious  to 
prevent  grave  errors,  it  is  because  she 
appreciates,  from  her  past  experience,  the 
danger  of  admitting  such  errors  into  the 
structure  of  government.  She  is  watchful 
against  them  now,  because  in  the  sincere 
fidelity  of  her  purpose,  she  is  made  keenly 
alive  to  the  duties  of  the  present,  by  con 
templating  the  inevitable  responsibilities 
of  the  future. 

In  sympathy  with  the  heart  and  hope  of 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  297 

the  nation,  she  will  abide  by  her  faith. 
Undisturbed  by  the  impatient,  undismayed 
by  delay,  "  with  malice  towards  none,  with 
charity  for  all ;  with  firmness  in  the  right, 
as  God  gives  us  to  see  the  right,"  she  will 
persevere.  Impartial,  democratic,  consti 
tutional  liberty  is  invincible.  The  rights 
of  human  nature  are  sacred  ;  maintained 
by  confessors,  and  heroes,  and  martyrs ; 
reposing  on  the  sure  foundation  of  the 
commandments  of  GOD. 

"  Through  plots  and  counterplots  ; 
Through  gain  and  loss  ;  through  glory  and  disgrace  ; 
Along  the  plains  where  passionate  Discord  rears 
Eternal  Babel  ;  still  the  holy  stream 
Of  human  happiness  glides  on  ! 

There  is  ONE  above 
Sways  the  harmonious  mystery  of  the  world." 

Gentlemen  :  —  For  all  the  favors,  unmer 
ited  and  unmeasured,  which  I  have  en 
joyed  from  the  people  of  Massachusetts  ; 
from  the  councillors,  magistrates  and  offi 
cers  by  whom  I  have  been  surrounded  in 
the  government ;  and  from  the  members 


298  MEMOIR   OF  JOHN  A.    ANDREW. 

of  five  successive  Legislatures ;  there 
is  no  return  in  my  power  to  render,  but 
the  sincere  acknowledgments  of  a  grate 
ful  heart. 


University  Press  :  John  Wilson  &  Son,  Cambridge. 


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